


To Infinity But Not Beyond

by Merianon



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Battle of Wakanda (Avengers: Infinity War), Canon Divergence - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Canon Infinty War Feels, Death is a Neutral Character, Multi, New Accords, Non-Linear Narrative, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Time Travel, Tony and Steve get along, Tony and Steve get things done, Wakanda (Marvel), except when people unbalance the universe, then she doesn't mind getting a bit involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 13:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18621511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merianon/pseuds/Merianon
Summary: Thanos had won. Half of the universe's living population had been wiped from existence, so had their souls. If there was one way to get Death's attention, it was by pissing her off.Standalone with some drabbles as later chapters in a non-chronological order. Fix-It, AU, a smidge of time travel. OCs are loosely based on comic characters.





	1. Integral of Infinity

**Author's Note:**

> This is cross-posted from fanfiction.net under the same name. Originally written in April 2018-19; last edited May 2019.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> Warnings: uh... post-Infinity War world, and time-travel-but-not-time-travel hijinks
> 
> POVs: Death, Tony Stark, Stephen Strange

_It_ walked across the field of desolation. Pain and sorrow wailed in violent agony, crying out brokenly to any who might hear. Earlier – for now time had no meaning in this place, so simply _earlier_ – there had once been trillions of souls who might have listened. Now, there was only one.

But _it_ did not care to heed that echoing cry of raw emotion. _It_ was not here for that. No, _it_ was here for the one – that transgressor, defiler of balance, the Mad Titan – who had called _it_ , who had offered billions upon billions of souls to appease _it_.

_That insane fool had destroyed everything._

Death looked upon the destruction around her (because that was its personification in this universe, as it was referred to with titles such as "Mistress" and "Lady" by the Mad Titan). She looked and saw naught but Darkness. The Light of this universe flickered, a fading hope that threatened to be extinguished with barely a shift of air.

This universe had failed.

Not yet, but it may as well have been over. For, nothing had been able to stop Thanos. Not when he had all of the Infinity Stones placed within the Gauntlet. The Mad Titan had achieved a state of existence in which he was technically superior to her, to death itself. Even if she had any desire to return Thanos's… affections for her, Death _could not_ – not so long as he wielded the full power of the Infinity Stones.

 _What a shame_ , Death thought to herself as she passed yet another decaying soul. There were many who were labeled as 'rotting' now. After all, the titan's wish had been to remove half of the entire universe's population. And as such, those souls-that-were faded into Nothing.

To be clear, while Death had no quarrel with Thanos's paltry attempts to court her, this was not the proper way to go about it. Death did _not_ approve of how this had all played out. There was now a massive imbalance between Life and Death. The decaying souls couldn't move on to their respective afterlives or into their next reincarnations, which meant that the energy that fed the continuation of the universe would be vastly reduced. It also meant that there wouldn't be enough to restart Everything.

Simply put, it was very _not good_. This universe would just End.

Death turned her eyes away from the Empty and over to what was left, even as the Light flickered yet again. ( _It wouldn't be long now. It was only a matter of time until it was gone. Then there would truly be Nothing left._ ) The last of the Avengers and their allies stood worn and weary and full of loss. None said a word, but they still held each other up.

Death blinked. They would die soon enough… But she found it endearing that they hadn't quite given up yet. There were many different ways this could have turned out differently; however, in this Path, too many things had been lost – too many things had been broken or left behind or forgotten. It was over for them.

In another Path, a different Fate had awaited them.

But here, now, Thanos simply sat, watching the sunset on some isolated planet, his so-called garden. He had won, and they had lost. Their time would come, and all would end with them. Death swept towards the last beings who kept the spark of hope in their hearts.

She remembered seeing them all before. Many times throughout their lives, Death had touched them in a way the Mad Titan would never know. Thanos was not able to comprehend the absolute level of feeling that filled these 'infinitesimal' beings in their desperation. Oh, he knew that they _hurt_ (as he had, for he knew pain and loss), that they could be _defiant_ to his plans (as his daughter had been, for he had raised her along with her unwavering strength), but he did not know the _courage_ (for it was not bravery that drove him) and _hope_ (for he had never needed it) and _love_ (for now he had none) that they still carried.

Death slipped past the Asgardian, flitting around his vision – he would only be angered if he saw her; he would demand wishes she could not grant to him. She passed the man with two selves – as intelligent as one half of him was, the other would not be likely to help their cause. She continued past the two assassins as well – they were not suited for this task either.

She stopped at the feet of the heart-broken man and the soul-weary soldier.

"If you could change one thing, what would it have been?"

Anthony Edward Stark's eyes snapped up at her question. Confusion and fear and _something else_ flashed through his being. Steven Grant Rogers turned, a similar set of emotions flashing through him as well. They were right to be wary of Death, especially now, but that was not why she appeared before them – _and only them_.

( _And, oh, how she had missed this form, too – especially the black, hooded cloak that shrouded her in shadow. The only thing she didn't miss was the young, girlish voice that came with it._ )

"Who are you?" the soldier-out-of-time questioned, tired eyes narrowed at her.

"Forgive my poor manners, I don't interact with living beings very often… Well, no, I don't _converse_ with them all that often," Death began to answer in a roundabout way.

"Answer the question," the man-who-had-everything-and-nothing said with a hard voice.

She refrained from smiling. It wouldn't have been very appropriate of her. ( _But they had the sensibility to not simply accept things. That was good._ ) "I am the one Thanos sought to court with the annihilation of half the universe."

Stark flinched, blanching at her with that new tidbit of knowledge shining in his haunted eyes. "Death," he whispered.

"And I ask again: If you could change one thing, what would it have been?"

"What does it matter?" Rogers snapped, tone harsh and torn with grief. "No matter what we do now, we can't stop him. We already lost."

"Who said anything about changing something now?" Death asked with a tilt of her head.

She maybe have been shorter than him in this form (by a whole five inches… and since she was floating about five inches off the ground, make that _ten_ whole inches), but that didn't affect the presence of her aura. She was actually somewhat surprised that soldier was still willing to go toe to toe with her. Not that they were fighting (of course, whether or not _he_ realized that was another matter). To her, this was closer to negotiation. Though, Death wasn't one to negotiate, so maybe it would have been better to say that this was… an agreement firmly made on her terms and on her terms alone.

Stark caught on to the full scope of her offer first. "You want to change the past?"

"To be fair, I find Thanos to be an obsessive creep, and I'd rather not be stuck with him as the last one left when the universe finally gives out," Death answered flippantly, even adding a wave of her pale hand to add a bit of emphasis to the fleeting notion.

Rogers was already shaking his head. "It still won't make a difference. Once Thanos got ahold of the Infinity Stones, he was too powerful to stop."

"Wanda destroyed the Mind Stone," Stark pointed out, an idea forming.

"But then Vision—" Rogers tried to argue.

"It doesn't have to be the Mind Stone. It doesn't even have to be any of them. Thanos can't wield the Stones without the Gauntlet, can he?" Stark asked, directing the question to her.

She let a small twitch of a smile touch her lips, barely visible from under the shadow of her hood. While she didn't exactly approve of the idea to destroy any of the Infinity Stones, which would cause a cosmic imbalance in and of itself, she wasn't one to stop a decent plan from coming to fruition. "It would make things rather difficult for him, yes. But you know not where the Gauntlet was nor where it was forged, only the locations of the Infinity Stones." 

"So get rid of the Space, Reality, Power. Protect Gamora so Thanos can't get Soul. Strange could keep Time, and Vision would have the Mind Stone," he reasoned.

"Assuming we could manage to destroy three of the other Stones, that still doesn't account for how we would defeat Thanos," Rogers cut in, sighing. "His Black Order would be tough to beat again, too."

Stark paused at that – mind swirling with ideas, constantly changing and reshaping the plan that was forming. "If everyone was ready? If we had all of us united and prepared to take them on? _All of us_ — Earth, Asgard, and everyone else?"

Death's smile grew a fraction of an inch more and then faded. The Balance was falling out of order faster than she'd thought it would. They didn't have much time to talk left.

"I ask one last time: If you could change _one_ thing, what would it have been?"

"Ultron," they answered together.

And just like that the universe stopped – not ended, just stopped. It had been a long, long time since _it_ had called upon _its_ siblings. Separate from one another, _they_ were simply parts that made up the Whole; together, _they_   were the embodiment of Everything. Normally, _its_ siblings would not have been pleased or willing to answer _its_ call, but even _they_ knew that something had to be done.

Eternity, specifically, could not get mad at Death for wanting the universe to have one last chance before its ultimate demise. And if that chance happened to keep the worlds spinning for another billion years instead of ending here and now, then Eternity had no quarrels with Death's plan. (For though these entities were abstract embodiments of fundamental aspects of the universe, even they still found themselves bound to a base survival instinct.)

Chaos chuckled, his distorted face warping and reshaping to make a semblance of the motions. "I'd clap my hands if had any," he proclaimed gleefully. This was more fun than he'd had in centuries.

Order's right eyebrow twitched as he tried to keep his own face passive – he still looked far more human than the other three entities, which was quite the feat considering he was only a head like his twin brother, Chaos. And though these two entities were exact opposites, they could agree with each other that the definite end of the universe would not be good for business, so to say. Eternity had similar reasons for coming, but at the same time, he'd rather not be here at all.

Death looked upon them and sighed. She knew it wouldn't take much to convince them to help, and yet it would take a lot to make sure it stayed that way. It didn't help that she wasn't in any particular high standing with any of them. Not since… well, that was a story for another time (or maybe _not ever_ ).

Eternity spoke next. "We know why you called us. We know what you plan. You know we will agree. The question is _should we?_ "

"Everything will die in the end," Death replied carefully. "I simply would rather not wink out of existence because of Thanos's obsession with me."

"The Mad Titan still seeks to woo you? I thought he would have realized by now that he can't even come near you now that he has all of the Infinity Stones on that Gauntlet," Order murmured.

Chaos laughed mirthlessly. "Let me emphasize _obsession_ , dear brother. Not to mention that titan's _mad_. He won't know what hit him after we're done. He'd paid a price too high for something that could have been corrected all too easily."

"This is no simple matter—"

Eternity cast his watchful eyes over the two entities, leaving them to their bickering in favor to turning to his sibling. "It is not a common occurrence that we find our roles switched. You're so often active in the machinations of this universe while I stand afar. Will you do nothing else to stay the course of this Path?" he asked her.

"I have done enough for now, but I will do much more while on the new Path," she told him.

He nodded his ever-knowing head. "This new Path will have great potential. I recommend keeping a constant eye on even the subtle events that take place, for those are often the most important."

"You know me better than that, sibling," Death said, reaching out to take Eternity's hand. "If we see each other here again, you can tell me I was wrong."

"And risk being proven wrong myself? I think not," Eternity responded with a teasing smile full of galaxies.

Death rolled her eyes. "Say hello to Infinity for me then. She better appreciate all the work I'm about to put into this. It's not everyday I do something for Life after all."

Eternity looked down at Death's outstretched hand. He knew his sibling was mostly doing this for herself, but at the same time, it benefited the universe and everything in it. She wasn't losing anything either way. There would be a few discrepancies in some individual's deaths, but it was nothing that couldn't be fixed within a century or two. Death only had everything to gain.

"Be careful in the game you play, sibling," he finally replied, taking Death's cold and pale hand with his right hand, lifting up his left and twisting counterclockwise.

Slowly, time stuttered into movement again, though not in the proper direction. Order and Chaos paused their bickering to watch Eternity turn back all of time. This would be one long haul indeed.

— _Sokovia, May 2015_ —

Deep within Strucker's base, Tony Stark stared at Loki's scepter. Weaving past the tables and boxes of things he didn't want to think about, Tony made his way up to the glow stick of destiny, as he'd once referred to it by. Right now, it looked a lot more deadly surrounded by the electromagnetic field that was keeping it upright without touching it.

"Thor," Tony called over the comms. "I've got eyes on the prize."

Behind him, Wanda Maximoff drifted forward to plant a 'vision' in his mind – a nightmare of his greatest fears.

It was here that Time stopped once more. Well, _paused_ might have been a more accurate term as it restarted in the correct direction not a second later.

Death reached into Stark's mind before the younger Maximoff could. A solid black covered his eyes, blocking out the red. Death showed him not a dream but reality. She showed him what had happened ( _what would happen_ ), and then after staying just long enough to make sure the little witch saw her own horrific end, Death left to do the same to Rogers.

Later, when Tony was making his way out of the HYDRA base, Steve caught up to him, looking just as shaken as Tony felt – every movement set him off, barely keeping back a flinch at even the smallest of things. Wanda and her brother could have still been around for all he knew.

Tony just kept walking towards the Quinjet when he took notice of Steve, who was quickly gaining ground on him. He needed to talk to Steve – he _knew_ he did. But something had set them apart in that vision, or whatever the hell it was. He didn't know _what_ , just that it had to have been big. And they had _lost everything_ because of that split.

Tony spun to face Steve the moment the other man grabbed his arm. Before that moment, Tony hadn't taken care to realize just how young Steve was compared to the rest of them, and remembering how old and tired Steve had looked in that vision scared him all the more. He didn't want that to happen. He couldn't let it happen.

_No more secrets._

"Did you see?" he demanded – gripping the scepter until his knuckles were white, if only to ground himself a little. "Did you see what happened?!"

A tight frown came over Steve's face before he gave a slow nod. "Was it real?" he asked in a small voice that Tony never wanted to hear come from him ever again.

"I don't know, but if it is? If we just blow it off, whatever it was, and it comes true… I don't think I could live with myself, knowing we could have stopped it," Tony said, ending in a whisper.

Steve put his other hand on Tony's other arm, the warmth radiating from his hands reminding Tony why he wasn't in his suit – this confrontation was meant to be face to face, everything laid out in the open for them to see in a way neither could ignore. "Well, this is a start, isn't it? We made a plan, together, that we would stay _together_."

"At least you don't have to make a killer AI in order to create the Vision," Tony grumbled, looking down at the scepter and giving it a wary look.

"Just how much did you see?" Steve asked, squeezing Tony's arms in a reassuring grip. "I only saw a few things about Vision and Wanda, some stuff involving accords, us fighting, and... well, losing to Thanos. And then the whole plan we made with Death."

Tony nodded, not that a nod could answer Steve's question. "We know what's coming. We can change things. Fix it, all of it."

"We sure as hell will try, and I'll be damned if we don't die trying."

"Language, Cap."

Steve just smiled at him.

— _New York Sanctum/Kamar-Taj, 2 Years Later (November 2017)_ —

"What? You don't believe me?"

"Oh, I believe you, but your source is a bit worrisome."

"I'm pretty sure that getting my head hijacked by Death was significantly more worrisome for me than it is for you."

Doctor Stephen Strange rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored the comment. "You said his name is Thanos?"

"Yes, and _as I said before_ , he wants to 'balance the universe' by wiping out half the living population of everywhere, using all six Infinity Stones," Stark reiterated.

They still had time, though how much they had left was a different matter entirely. The Time Stone was safe here with Stephen in Kamar-Taj, but that couldn't be said for the other five. Stark insisted that the Mind Stone was in good hands (or rather in a good forehead) and that Thor was supposedly making sure the Space Stone was well protected on Asgard. Word had also been sent out to the Guardians of the Galaxy – or whatever that band of space vigilantes called themselves – of Thanos's dangerously possible future movements.

Stephen had actually been rather surprised when Stark showed up outside his door at the New York Sanctum. The following discussion of Thanos's threat (interwoven with snide remarks aimed at each other, like the humble egotists they were) had sent Stephen practically running to Kamar-Taj's library for more information on the Mad Titan and the Infinity Stones. By the end of Stark's story, Stephen was more than convinced about the coming battle (though it sounded more like a war).

"And remind me again how many others know about this," Stephen murmured as he consulted a rather ancient tome that may or may not have the answers he wanted. Nope. He closed the book, put it back and moved on to another one.

Oh, he knew exactly how many people knew about Stark's 'vision'. There was Captain Rogers, who apparently had shared the information dump from a extremely desolate future – except the Captain's version had centered more around himself and what happened on his side of the coming war while Stark's had focused on what he'd experienced. The rest of the Avengers (both old and new) had been told – Rogers and Stark had refused to keep such a large secret to themselves, not if it meant the end of the world – but they had tried to keep who else knew localized in order to stay any potential public panic.

Stephen could speculate who Thor told – more than likely 'Odin' (because the real Odin wasn't actually in Asgard) since any help from the Asgardians against the Mad Titan's armies would be a tremendous help. From there, the rest of Nine Realms might have been alerted of Thanos's plans (emphasis on _might_ ). The Guardians of the Galaxy had obviously been told, and Gamora (who supposedly knew the location of the Soul Stone and was the key to Thanos getting it) had been told to stay far away from her adoptive father. Rogers was currently away to the third-world country of Wakanda to gain their official support in the efforts of defending Earth against Thanos (except Wakanda wasn't a third-world country, now was it?). And Stephen was the next on the list of people Stark and Rogers had sought out in an attempt to prevent that future they saw from happening.

All in all, Stark and Rogers weren't doing half bad – Stephen did have to admit that much – if the plan they'd outlined was anything to go by.

But the Eye of Agamotto – the Time Stone, really – impressed the validity of the plan. ( _It was the only way._ ) The forgotten memory from a distant future refused to be pushed from his mind. Whatever the master plan had been, surely it was working, he assured himself. Of course, that plan must have meant pissing off Death enough to alert them of the End. ( _It had also involved saving Stark; he was important – he had to have been in those final moments. His own death hadn't been in vain._ )

"Look, if you're just going to criticize me all day—"

"No, no. I'm in," Stephen interrupted before Stark got the wrong idea. He pulled out the next book of relevance. "Just checking some details."

Stark let out a huff that was closer to a scoff than anything. "Right. You do that, and I'll just leave you to your hocus pocus."

If Wong wouldn't have throttled him for throwing a book, Stephen would have given in to the very strong urge to hit Stark in the face with it. "It's—"

"I know what it is, Doc. Just— You stick with the magic, and I'll stay with my very real science."

"You met Death," Stephen pointed out exasperatedly, setting the book down on the closest table. Wong would get it later (and then proceed to hunt Stephen down and lecture him about proper book care, but again, _later_ ). "What is it going to take for you to accept that magic isn't—"

"I don't have anything against magic—"

"And yet you still—"

"—no offense but really—"

"—refuse to believe that—"

"—I mean, sparkly orange circles and whips—"

Someone knocked on the New York Sanctum's door.

"You've got to be kidding me," Stephen muttered under his breath as he made he way back to and then through the doorway from Kamar-Taj to New York, heading towards the main door to open it. He didn't wait to see if Stark followed him.

But Stark had, in fact, followed him and greeted the person on the other side of the rather enthusiastically until he saw who else his friend was with. "I thought you said he'd died," he blurted out after a solid minute of everyone staring at each other.

Wearing street clothes and carrying Mjolnir disguised as an umbrella of all things on an otherwise sunny day, Thor (who was looking worse for wear) glanced over his shoulder to Loki (who looked just as, if not more, ragged and ruffled as Thor) and then looked back to give Stark an awkward smile. "Well, you see, this is where it gets complicated. We've come looking for our father."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got off my butt to post these latter chapters. I'm not really one for posting warnings, so I never really know what to put. But here we go. 
> 
> Warnings: allusions to PTSD (because both Tony and Steve have issues) and some musings about what happened in the Infinity War that got retconned by Death and Eternity.
> 
> POVs: Steve Rogers, Death

— _Avengers Tower, May 2015_ —

Steve watched, patient and quiet, as Tony worked with Bruce to create the Vision without unleashing Ultron. Letting out a soft sigh, he rubbed the bridge of his nose to stave off an imagined headache. It had been a _very_ long night.

The flight back to the Tower had been as uneventful as they all usually hoped, though Clint's injury was worrying. It was after Clint had been given the all clear by Doctor Cho that Tony had pulled Steve over into a private area where they could talk without the rest of the team barging in on them. Unlike the open ground of Strucker's base that Steve had stopped Tony on, this was Tony's territory now. The genius had seriously downplayed just how much he did for the team when Maria Hill had called him boss.

"We have to tell them," Tony started as soon as the windows of the room went opaque. "I can't even begin to try to create Vision without Bruce's help, and he's not stupid. He'll know I'm up to _something_ even if I don't clue him in on what I'm doing."

"And what exactly are we going to tell them?" Steve countered, crossing his arms. "I know for a fact that _you'd_   be skeptical if any of the rest of us said we'd seen visions of the future."

"I— Well…" Tony stuttered to a halt, for once at a loss for words.

Looking at the glass that would have shown a view of the common area if it hadn't been blacked out, Steve waited for Tony to come up with his answer. Steve already had is own ideas of what they could say to convince their teammates, but he wanted to hear what Tony had to say. Listening to his friends was going to help him in the years to come – it was a fact he could feel was ingrained into his soul. ( _And if that was because of a certain cosmic entity that he and Tony had apparently made a deal with to save half the population of the universe, then he wasn't about to think about it too deeply._ )

Steve's eyes flicked back to Tony as the man let out a noise of frustration. "Thor would be easy enough to convince, but the twin spies and Brucie? They need proof." Tony seemed to deflate for a moment before Steve could almost see the light bulb lighting up over his head. "What if I could prove that the Mind Stone is in the scepter?"

"It could work," Steve said with a one-shouldered shrug.

"And how much do you want to bet Wanda saw most of everything I did? The Maximoffs would know what's going on— at least to some extent. She could back me up," Tony went on, his train of thought not quite stopping to process Steve's input. "I guess if we really had to, we could just let things play out enough to let that be the proof, but that would probably mean Sokovia all over again, and—"

"We'll do our best to keep that from happening."

Tony frowned at Steve's interruption, casting his gaze across the room, looking somewhere else without actually seeing. "We were offered a chance to change one thing, and we chose Ultron. What was that even supposed to mean?" he asked in a quiet, broken voice.

Noticing the shift instantly, Steve straightened and moved closer to Tony, putting a hand near but not on Tony's arm. "You know, knowledge can enable change, but those changes negate the knowledge. If we change what happens now, almost everything else will be different."

"Almost everything," Tony repeated. "But will it be enough? Can you guarantee that I'm not going to watch a kid – _who was my responsibility to bring home_ – disintegrate, begging not to go because _I_ was supposed to _protect him_ , while all I could do was hold him because we failed!"

Steve didn't move an inch when Tony started yelling at him. He could feel the pain in Tony's voice, the pain of loosing someone he held close to his heart cutting into him. Steve didn't know who this kid was, but he could guess – the one in the red and blue suit who could shoot webs, the one he'd seen in a vision of that airport. And Steve knew that if this was what it took Tony letting someone in enough to make him sound like _this_ … Well, it made Steve wonder just how hard of a blow Tony had taken when whatever it was that broke _them_ apart created that schism.

He liked to think that they were a bit more than co-workers on a team. Sometimes he hoped that they were at least friends.

"Tony…" Steve started before he was cut off as Tony suddenly left the room.

Steve still had no idea what Tony had been doing from the time he left to when they'd gathered the team up in that same room to tell them the secret. That whole discussion could have left Steve wanting for an entire week off, but with Ultron and Vision and the Maximoffs all lined up to be dealt with? He didn't think he'd be getting a break for a long while yet.

"Hey, Cap," Tony called from across the room, waving him over. "I think I've got something," he stage-whispered conspiratorially as Steve got close enough to hear him in such a voice.

"Something I'll be able to understand?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, gaining a slight smile from Bruce.

Tony let a grin of his own show. "Come on, Steve. Even you'd be able to recognize this," he said, gesturing to a hologram he then displayed in the middle of the lab.

"The Mind Stone."

"Got it in one."

— _Vormir, June 2015_ —

Death floated (because why walk when you can hover over the ground?) across the wetland earth, headed for the massive mountain range that housed the home of the Soul Stone. Lightning slashed the sky in weaving arcs somewhere far off in a light show of multicolor, thunder echoing unheard in the distance. Night had fallen several hours ago, and the eternally eclipsed sun would not rise for another three.

She didn't need to be here, but nothing especially important was happening on Earth – or anywhere else for that matter – at the moment. So, she had decided to travel to the site of the Infinity Stone that was arguably the hardest to obtain. It wasn't like she desired to remove the Soul Stone from this place (it was actually much safer if she left it where it was); however, she did want to have a chat with its current keeper.

Johann Schmidt should have died when he touched the container of the Space Stone. The energy that the Tesseract had been putting off at that point in time was more than enough to kill a human (superhuman or otherwise), but more often than not, Infinity Stones had their own plans in mind, though only a couple of them had any real level of sentience – like the Soul Stone. However, as a wraith protecting the one of the Stones, the Red Skull had been rendered untouchable by death until the Soul Stone was no longer there to be protected.

The task was truly a curse – there was no other way of stating it – for one like Schmidt. It must have been a blow to one's conviction, to have power just within reach but never being able to wield it. And in the end, it would be someone else who left with the prize.

"Ah, _Herrin_ Death," greeted the Stonekeeper.

"We meet again, Mister Schmidt," she returned in greeting. "Or do you prefer Red Skull? Stonekeeper?"

"I have no need of fancy titles anymore, dear lady." And perhaps the sad touch in his voice wasn't a part of her imagination.

She lifted her head just enough to reveal the slight smile under her hood. "You needn't use such _fancy titles_ with me either. We're not quite on the same playing field, but I can't touch you because of the Stone you guard."

"And that makes us more than simple acquaintances, does it?" the wraith asked, not without a little curiosity.

"Well…" Death drawled out the word, tilting her head to the side while turning her eyes that way as well in an exaggerated motion. "I should think we'll be seeing each other a few more times after this. We might as well move on past that awkward stage."

The Stonekeeper was not so dull as to take the statement at face value. "This is about the Stone."

"Is there any other special feature about Vormir I should know about?" she quipped.

If the Red Skull had eyebrows, Death was sure she would have seen him raise at least one of them at the comment. "Even if the Mad Titan does not remember, the Infinity Stones do. They know when their power has been tampered with," he said cryptically.

"Then surely they understand our reasons for setting back the universal clock."

"The Soul Stone does," the wraith responded after a long pause. "Though I cannot say for the others."

"Of course," Death nodded in understanding. After all, the Stonekeeper was only the guardian for the Soul Stone, not the other five.

As of right now, the Space Stone was still encased in the Tesseract – sitting upon a pedestal in the Vaults of Asgard. The Mind Stone was with its new owner, Vision. Reality was still posing as the Aether in the collection of Taneleer Tivan. Power was locked away in the Nova Corps vaults. The Eye of Agamotto held the Time Stone. And, obviously, the Soul Stone resided here on Vormir. All six Infinity Stones could be accounted for.

The Infinity Gauntlet was a spark of an idea in Thanos's mind. He was merely waiting for Odin to meet his end, and then he would head straight for Nidavellir. But until then... It would take another two years or so for him to gather enough forces to begin his conquest, starting with razing Xandar, the capital of the Nova Empire. After that, only a week had passed until he'd come across the Asgardians' ship, taking the Space Stone and killing all but the king. The rest had been easy pickings (so to say anyways) from there. It had been not unlike watching the dominoes effect.

And perhaps under different circumstances – if Thanos hadn't acquired the Stones in the order he had – maybe it wouldn't have gone so badly for the heroes. Sometimes, instead of wondering, it's better to simply _make_ those circumstances. (Perks of being the embodiment of an abstract concept, granting status as a cosmic entity. Not like Eternity could say anything since he helped with this.)

"Was that all you wished to talk about?"

Death let a teeth baring grin cross her face. "Not quite… I have a proposal for you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due take note that there are some things that I put in author's notes (as well as some responses to reviews there) on the FFN version that aren't here. Still, if you have a question that I haven't answered here, don't be afraid to ask. 
> 
> Warnings: nothing super specific. Death being casual about death because she's Death, the Time Stone being cryptic about the other Infinity War, and Tony being Tony (also, minor Jarvis feels, in case that's what gets you). 
> 
> POVs: Death, Stephen Strange, Tony Stark

— _Sakaar, November 2017_ —

Death hid a smile while Chaos took a sharp inhale through malformed teeth (and jaw). Loki's landing on Sakaar had been neither soft nor subtle. Though, to be fair, no one would take notice of it this far away from the main city.

Looking away for a moment as the adopted Asgardian regained his bearings, Death shooed a rodent away from her cloak, scowling at the persistent thing when it came back not a minute later. Chaos was chattering away about something to do with the beauty of Sakaar. If Order were here, he'd probably have blown a casket or however that human saying went. But Order wasn't here, and she doubted he'd bother coming here for a long time (assuming he ever would).

Somewhere on this planet, several hundred souls suddenly passed on into their afterlife. She barely cast a glance in the direction of what could only have been a slaughter. On a planet like this, she be more surprised if _no one_ died on a given day (or a given _hour_ , for that matter). Then again, she'd probably be a bit more concerned than surprised if something like that happened. There was always death occurring somewhere.

Still… how some of the people here on Sakaar died could get a little disturbing, to say the least. Aside from the gladiatorial system that the Grandmaster enforced for his entertainment, cannibalism and the melting stick were two major causes of death that made Death wince whenever she had to visit Sakaar. Why couldn't anyone just die the normal way – through old age? Sure, it sucked having to die that way, but some considered it the most peaceful way to go if one didn't account for how the body just started to shut down on itself.

Chaos's ramble turned to the colors of this trash heap (literally) being a collage of abstract... art? Death looked over to the constantly shifting head with a frown on her face. "What in the world are you going on about?"

"Just because you only see the art of nature in life and subsequent death doesn't mean that other art isn't in the mess and straight lines of the world around us," Chaos answered in a way that Death was hopeless to understand without taking a full minute to contemplate his words.

It wasn't all that hard to comprehend – Chaos was talking about the nature of the concepts they embodied. But the art of it all? Death didn't quite understand what he was trying to get at. It was usually that way with Chaos, even his twin couldn't translate the inane meanings half the time.

"Oh! Lookit! My favorite trickster is finally getting up!"

Death rolled her eyes. "Yes, I can see that. You don't have to shout it to the universe," she said, adding an exasperated sigh just to get the point across.

Chaos chose that moment to reveal himself to his 'favorite'. "You couldn't have aimed a bit more to the left? You'd have made this pile of trash _explode!_ "

Shifting herself onto the physical plane as well, Death cuffed the ever-changing head, sending him tumbling down the trash pile he'd suggested Loki should have aimed for. "Ignore him," she drawled.

Loki stared at her with a look of incredulous disbelief. Death didn't really get why she was on the receiving end of such a look from him: they had met before – 'met' being a very loose term. Thanos had not been kind to the fallen prince before sending Loki to retrieve the Tesseract for him. And despite the princeling constantly being kept from her grasp during that time, there had been no coming back from a crushed neck.

Still, even if she had already seen him once before in this new Path, _that_ death hadn't happened yet. And if certain minor events had taken effect, then she wouldn't appear before him for his final journey for a long time.

"Lord Chaos... Lady Death," he started, wariness rightfully exuding from his features.

"Trickster," Death said into the subsequent silence. "I have a favor to call in."

A curiosity kindled in those sharp eyes, and Death knew she had his full attention. "And what sort of favor might that be, may I ask?"

_Ever the gentleman_ , Death mused. _Or more accurately, ever the silver-tongued._ "After Hela is dealt with, head for Nidavellir. Your brother will need a proper instrument to channel his powers with in the coming war," she told him.

"War? Against whom?"

Death let a smirk crawl across her face as Chaos cackled. "You know who!" the head cried in amused excitement.

Loki visibly paled – a true feat, considering his already pale complexion. "You can't possibly expect me to ever go near that madman—"

"No, she wants you to help a bunch of idiots go up against him— _Ow!_ Stop hitting me!"

Death scowled down at her sibling. "Then stop butting in and let me do my work, _you fiend_ ," she practically growled.

"You know, that's actually a compliment, given _my_ work— Okay! Okay, I'll shut up now."

For a creature (more accurately, the embodiment) of chaos itself – something that Death should have been on relatively good terms with –, her sibling certainly had a way of grating on her nerves. Honestly, Order had far more sense and was far easier to deal with, even if he was a bit stuck up about preciseness and cleanliness in everything. No, no – she took that back. Eternity was definitely better company than either of the other two.

The worst he could do was give her one of _those_ looks.

Death repressed a shudder at the thought and turned her attention back to the faintly amused but far more bemused god. "As I was going to say, surely you've noticed… given your innate sense for magic, I would assume you can tell this isn't the first time Thanos has come for the Infinity Stones."

"Well, this is the first I've heard of it being spoken as if it had already happened," Loki responded, a thoughtful expression weaving through his curiosity and overcoming his wariness. "I imagine he'll have the Gauntlet soon, if not already."

"You would not be wrong," Death murmured in conformation.

Loki turned away, his back facing the two entities while he looked at the looming city of Sakaar. "Who else knows?" he asked – the question practically inaudible to all but Death and Chaos – after long moment.

Chaos burst out laughing at Death's smile. "That would be telling," they answered in unison.

— _Kamar-Taj, February 2017_ —

Time.

Kaecilius once said it was an insult. To humanity. To the world, the universe itself.

Stephen once tried to control it. And it worked… to an extent.

The Time Stone allowed for the manipulation of the time continuum – even the potential for breaking it. But _time_ (and not simply the concept) wasn't something one could truly be able to control. Perhaps that was where people began to misunderstand.

You can't blame time for existing. Just like you can't blame death for playing its part in its cycle with life.

_"It's not about you."_

Stephen had learned more in that day alone than the entirety of his time in Kamar-Taj. Though, to be fair, it had been a rather _long_ day: time zone changes and time loops and what not. The multiple not-deaths had also given him a bit of perspective. Then, of course, the close brush with actual death before that whole encounter with Dormammu wasn't something easily dismissed either…

Death had been a common factor that day.

_(It didn't matter how many were lost though, did it? Not when so many – half, half,_ it was always half – _would be gone in just over a year. And how much time was that? Not nearly enough.)_

Stephen stared at the Eye of Agamotto, or rather the Infinity Stone that dwelled within it.

He should have told Wong. Wong would have been concerned, pouring over books and scrolls for some kind of answer. He should have told her, the Ancient One, whatever her real name was. She may or may not have already known why Stephen was hearing things from the Stone.

It wasn't even "hearing" really. More… a subtle thought that wasn't his, that shouldn't have even occurred to him suddenly at the forefront or in the back of his mind. Knowledge that he couldn't have known just _there_.

He already had his own speculations. Some were a bit farfetched; others more reasonable. All had to do with the Time Stone. None of it was particularly good.

( _It won't end in fire or mass destruction. No, no, no. It'll all end with the snap of the Mad Titan's fingers. That was the end. That was the bell tolling, and the bell tolled for half of the entire population of every living sentience in the universe._ )

Stephen stared, and he listened.

He only ever came here to see the Time Stone when he knew Wong would be occupied with something else and when he knew for sure that no one would be around to bother him. He didn't need a different (and potentially worse) kind of concern from Wong about this. Eventually, Stephen would bring his friend in on it all, but not now. Not yet. Not when Stephen didn't even know what _it_ was.

In her final moments, the Ancient One had mentioned being able to peer through time, to see different possible futures. Even with her use of power from the Dark Dimension, it was clear to Stephen that she had only been able to do so with the Eye. It was what was tempting him now.

He could hear, but he wanted to _see_. He needed to use it.

_Not yet._ Not yet, he told himself. He needed to wait.

It was too soon after Kaecilius and Dormammu and the Ancient One's death. The London Sanctum was still in the middle of being rebuilt, and he still had to tidy up a few areas of the Sanctum in New York. Kamar-Taj was a mess – unstable with the loss of the Sorcerer Supreme's leadership.

Wong had told Stephen that he was the more than likely candidate for that title's successor, but he still had much to learn (as he said only every time they met up with each other). So, really, Wong was the temporary overseer – not Sorcerer Supreme but still the current person-in-charge, as it was. Stephen was fine with that. It left him to his studies in the New York Sanctum (when he wasn't here in Kamar-Taj, that is).

There would be a time when he'd be ready to use the Time Stone, when he'd learned how to use it in a proper, safer way. And until then, he would just have to wait.

Stephen could do that. He had the time.

( _But could you ever truly have the time? Can you own such a thing? It always runs out in the end._ )

( _No matter what you do, you will always end up here. Whatever choices are remade, whatever details have been altered, it will always end up_ _ **here**_ _._ )

— _New Avengers Facility, May 2015_ —

They had done it. Tony wasn't too clear on the how, but they'd done it.

After that one shared look with Steve, it had all been a blur. But Tony knew that Ultron had still been created (unfortunately); however, Tony and Bruce (and JARVIS) had contained the malevolent AI, isolated Ultron from everything after he had almost escaped through the Internet (JARVIS had saved the day). A vibranium body made from Dr. Helen Cho's Cradle (which had involved a minor scrape with some smuggler named Klaue in South Africa) and the Mind Stone (Loki's scepter had, admittedly, been tough to crack open) got thrown into the mix, and Steve had been concerned about something (probably the Maximoff twins again), and then Vision happened.

Vision, who somehow was still on humanity's side even with all of the differences to his creation.

(He'd still lost Jarvis, though. Apparently nothing was going to change that. Jarvis was too integral as a part of Vision's persona to be left out.)

Tony couldn't have been more grateful. For what, exactly, he wasn't entirely sure, but he was grateful that things turned out the way they did. And that was that.

There was still a battle fought in Sokovia, but it had been far less destructive than what Tony had seen in that future-vision-thing. It had been against the Maximoffs… sort of. They had been targeting Tony more than the rest of the team, but Steve hadn't been about to let that slide, and then things kind of snowballed into everyone else getting a bit protective (and in no way was Tony ever going to admit aloud that when Steve and Bruce and Thor and Clint and Natasha all stood in front of him to keep the twins away while he was down, Tony had felt like they were a family and not just a team).

Maybe Tony had been exaggerating when he'd said there had been a second battle in Sokovia. Nothing big happened. Well, there was a fight (they may or may not have blown up half of a mountain), but by the end of the day (read as: around three in the morning), they had ended up taking Wanda and Pietro back to the Tower and then to the New Avengers Facility because it was actually starting to get a bit crowded in the Tower.

Tony had called in Rhodey, everyone was gathered up, and once the newbies were officially welcomed into the Avengers, there was another _Talk_.

That time, Tony had been grateful for sensible, mind-screwing, scarlet witches. Not that Thor hadn't already been convinced. Vision apparently also knew (roughly) about the Infinity Stones problem. And since Pietro tended to side with his sister (he was just _so impatient_ about getting things done) and the rest of the team had already heard the story before (whether or not Natasha, Clint and Bruce believed it was another matter), the hardest thing had been getting Nick Fury – who showed up at some point between Vision's creation and the second 'battle' in Sokovia – to come around to the idea that, _no_ , Tony was not bat-shit crazy and neither was Steve (or any of the others) for backing him up.

At the end of that day (and, oh, it had been such a long _week_ ), Fury had been more than convinced that something big ( _Thanos_ ) was coming. That future-Tony and future-Steve had made a deal with Death herself to tweak some things to help in the inevitable war. That they were going to need all the help they could get.

"Hey, Tony. Can't sleep?"

Tony shrugged. Steve wasn't using his Captain America voice, so either he missed team dinner night again or Steve was coming to him about something non-Avengers related. "What's got your tights in a twist, Cap?" he asked, taking note of Steve's anxious demeanor before turning the majority of his attention back to the new suit he was designing.

It wasn't for himself. Tony hadn't even met the kid yet (didn't even know his name, but he would start the search sooner or later), and he was already making something he knew would be trademark for the kid. This design first – something for the 'normal' day to day things on Earth – and then something a bit more of his own style. Because, if what he 'remembered' about the kid was anything to go by, there was no way Tony was going to be able to convince the kid to stay put somewhere safe on Earth during the big showdown with Thanos.

( _"—can't be a friendly-neighborhood Spider-Man if there's no neighborhood—"_ )

Steve sighed, but Tony could tell it wasn't because of him. "Thor's leaving tomorrow."

"And Bruce is going with him. I know." (And Tony wasn't at all bitter about that. Nope, no siree.)

"I heard you told Clint to take some time off. A semi-retirement plan kind of thing," Steve tried at the small talk again.

Tony was sorely tempted to roll his eyes but refrained. "The man has a family to take care of, remember? Saving the world every other week is a great hobby, but family should come first, yeah?"

_Why would that of all things make Steve shift from anxious to downright awkward?_

Tony glanced over in Steve's direction right as the blond came to some sort of resolve, his back straightening into an 'at-attention' posture. "We both know neither of us is getting any sleep because of that vision— it just replays every time we try to get some shut-eye. Tonight it seemed adamant to loop this one scene… Tony, we both said _no more secrets_ , and I've kept this from you for a while now, even before Sokovia."

"Oh?" It was said as nonchalant as Tony could make it under the circumstances. He shoved several conflicting emotions down a black hole and _dared_ them to keep him from being reasonable about whatever Steve was having his own conflictions over.

Steve took another steeling breath. _Here it comes._ "I guess I should start with the HYDRA takeover last year…"

As Steve began what sounded like a long-winded speech about _stuff_ , Tony resigned himself to listening to the very long discussion that would most likely go into the early hours of the morning (not like he was getting any sleep either way). He minimized and put away most of his designs and tools, settling into his nice and comfy chair as Steve continued to stand during his great monologue.

And really, the whole thing wasn't that bad (well, Tony was starting to doze a bit by the time Steve got to the HYDRA versus SHIELD incident – he already knew all about that). Red flags and alarms only started going off when Steve dropped a few very important names.

"Wait— that's why Wilson's been snooping around, trying to be sneaky in my place?" Tony blurted out. He couldn't help himself – he really had tried to keep the questions for the end though. "You're trying to find _James 'Bucky' Barnes_?"

Steve granted him a pained smile. "That's not all…"

Of course it wasn't. Because nothing is ever simple.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: the aftermath of the near-extinction of the Dwarves of Nidavellir
> 
> POVs: Death, Tony Stark

— _Nidavellir, December 2017_ —

Death sidestepped yet another Dwarf corpse. It was getting a bit tedious, wandering about the great forges here without a guide. Everything looked the same, especially in the dark. How was she supposed to know which way it was to the main forge? It wasn't like she came here often. All she had as any sort of helping waypoint was the flickering life of the Dwarf King.

Eitri was the only living being in Nidavellir, as he would be for a couple more months – at least until Thor came for Stormbreaker. By the time Thor had come the first time around, it had been much too late for the mighty axe to prevent the end. This time, though, if Thor was given a reason to come here first instead of heading straight to Earth… Perhaps the scales would tip all the more in their favor.

_Note to self: talk to Chaos about meeting his favorite trickster_ , she mused.

But that wasn't why she was here.

Thanos had already come and gone with the Infinity Gauntlet. Eitri had made the Gauntlet in vain play to save his people's lives. Thanos had killed them all anyway. Not even half of them were spared – as was his usual ritual.

Death paused as a faint rustling sounded behind her. A moment later, two massive fists phased through her form. _Ah, there he was_. She turned to face the Dwarf, who was looking rather ragged in his isolation.

"Isn't that a rather rude way to treat a guest?" Not that she particularly cared. She understood that Eitri would be somewhat grief stricken, and she had come prepared for the eventuality that the Dwarf would not be pleased with her presence after the massacre of his people.

"Have you come for me, too, then?" came the gruff and booming voice.

Death masked a wince. She had forgotten how loud the Dwarves were. Despite what the name stereotypically implied, Dwarves were not small beings, larger than even the Titans and some species of Giants. Of course, she could have met with Eitri in a much larger form, but she had figured she would seem less intimidating in this form she used with the humans.

"No," she answered in a voice just loud enough for him to hear her. "This is more of a personal visit."

The Dwarf hummed at that, suspicious eyes narrowed. "And what brings you to this forsaken place?"

"A request— a rather simple one at that."

"The last time I heard a proposition like that, my people ended up slaughtered." Eitri's voice rumbled with the recent loss.

"That wasn't an outright refusal. May I assume that you'll hear me out?" she asked politely.

Aggression would get her nowhere in a situation like this. It wasn't like aggression was her first choice either way. She much rather preferred to let things play out, and if interference was needed, why get her hands dirty? There were plenty of living beings who would sully their hands with blood and other vile fluids to get what they wanted without Death having to move a single muscle.

Eitri stared at her for a tense minute and then leaned back to crash down into a less than comfortable sitting position, drawing his hands close to himself. "Go on then."

Death carefully kept her eyes from staring at the Dwarf's hands, claimed by Thanos as they were. There was little she could do about Eitri's state, but… Still, that was not why she was here. "You have the initial designs for Stormbreaker, do you not?"

"Not that they'll ever be finished or even amount to anything," Eitri responded with a dark look in his eyes as he looked downwards in the general direction of his useless hands. "Why do you ask?"

Death sighed inwardly. It would seem that she did have to do something about his hands. Well, she couldn't make them _better_ , but she could at least numb the pain from the way the nerves in his hands were constantly rubbed raw by what Thanos had done. The Dwarf might not be able to grasp anything, but his hands would be as strong as the hammers the Dwarves wielded in their forges.

Reaching out, Death gestured to Eitri's hands with her own. "May I?"

Eitri stared at her. "You're too polite for something that replaces life," he told her.

"People respond disastrously far more often if I don't act with a bit of propriety," she replied, patiently waiting for him to let her be a bit more than just _polite_.

"The Mad Titan decimates planet's populations in your name, yet you speak of propriety," he muttered, his voice still echoing in the empty halls. "How did you end up with a servant like him?"

"I never claimed him as mine," she snipped.

Eitri looked off to the side, a faintly sheepish expression forming on his face. "Can't argue with that…"

Death sighed aloud and took several steps forward, hands falling back to her sides as she moved towards the forlorn Dwarf. When she finally crossed the distance, she sat in the air beside him, hovering ten feet off of the floor. Eitri glanced at her but didn't comment otherwise.

Eventually, he caved and shifted until he could present both of his hands to her.

"Your life belongs to none but yourself," Death told him as she gently rested her hands on his. "And your hands are as much a part of your life as your mind is. Not even Thanos can take that from you now."

— _New York City, May 2016_ —

The moment FRIDAY alerted him to an incoming call from Steve, he excused himself from the dull company of a couple sharks and walked to the outdoor balcony to take the call in private.

" _Tony, congratulations on your engagement._ "

"Thanks, Cap, but that can't be why you're calling," Tony replied, taking a sip of the alcohol that was being served at… well, it was some sort of conference that Pepper had dragged him to – something to do with a bit of good press. He remembered that much, so he'd probably have to go back and mingle after the ending the call, which meant he was about to make it as long as decently possible.

" _I didn't realize that was him,_ " Steve said, and it took Tony a minute to realize what he meant.

He let out a short, halfhearted chuckle. "Well, you didn't ask. Besides, Peter's still just a kid. No need to make him join the band or anything."

" _You asked him, and he declined,_ " Steve surmised with a muffed sigh. " _Look, if you're worried about the UN—_ "

"What? No, no, I—" Tony spluttered, cutting Steve off. "You stay over there and keep making friends with King T'Challa and his people. Who knows, Peter might want to meet this Princess Shuri you've mentioned once or twice…"

Thankfully, Steve picked up on Tony's not-so-subtle wish for a topic change. " _Uh, yeah. T'Challa sounds amiable to opening up Wakanda to the public. Maybe not everything at once, but I think you can expect to see some rivaling technology coming out soon._ "

"Eh, I'm not too worried about that. People will stick with what they're used to, and vibranium tech is way beyond what most people are used to. Eventually they'll migrate from Stark tech to anything Wakanda puts out, but I'll have my own super advanced products out by then."

Steve's disgruntled face came in view of the screen, and Tony hid a smirk. Steve never did like talking about business or politics. " _Well, you have about a year. Princess Shuri is… not possessive exactly…_ "

"Protective?"

" _Yeah, she's pretty protective of her designs. She doesn't mind showing her stuff off, but the moment you ask to handle it yourself… I swear, it's like asking a mother bear if you can steal her cub._ "

"Hmm, I guess it's a good thing I didn't come along. By the way, how's Bucky doing?" Tony asked, changing the subject yet again. Diversity was always good.

Steve paused at the abrupt topic shift. " _He's… doing better, I guess. They haven't let me see him yet. Tony, I don't think I can ever thank you enough for bringing up Bucky's… condition to T'Challa during the whole thing with the accords._ "

"And I've told you before, so I'll just have to say it again: it's fine, Steve," Tony assured him in his most reassuring voice.

Breathing in the 'fresh' city air, he leaned back on the balcony's balustrade, alcoholic beverage still in hand. Just past the building's glass doors, Tony could see Pepper talking with some businessman or political figure. She turned, as if sensing his eyes on her, and waved – a very expensive metal band inlayed with several diamonds glittering on her left ring finger. He back waved with his free hand and gave her a quick smile before she turned back around to continue talking to whoever the others were.

" _Pepper?_ "

And just like that, Tony was reminded that he was still in a call with Steve, who was looking the slightest bit smug for some reason. "Yup."

" _So what all am I invited to?_ "

"As far as I know, everything," Tony replied in a drawl, turning to look out over the city's night life. "I'm like ninety-five percent sure that Pepper's already planned the engagement party without me."

" _Isn't that a good thing?_ " Steve asked, and it was a good thing that Tony knew when he was being teased.

He rolled his eyes. "It wasn't my fault that Clint may or may not be scarred for life because of that party."

" _It was_ your _party._ "

"He wasn't even supposed to show up."

" _It was supposed to be a surprise,_ " Steve admitted.

This was new information. "You knew he would be there!"

" _Laura said he was feeling a bit cooped up in the house and offered to watch the kids while he took care of the itch,_ " Steve explained as if it was common knowledge. " _Clint did stay at the Facility for a couple weeks after, remember?_ "

Okay, so Steve had a point, and maybe it should have been a bit obvious, but it wasn't like Tony kept track of _everything_ that went on in the world. Tony told Steve as much.

That, of course, got a laugh from Steve. " _Good to know you're acknowledging your limits._ "

"It's not like I didn't know what they were before. I just tend to ignore them more often than I respect them," Tony scoffed. His glass was empty now. Pity, he was barely feeling a buzz, and Pepper would insist he only have water for the rest of the night.

" _Look, if there's something else you wanted to talk about—_ "

"Hey, if you gotta go, I don't mind being the one to hang up—"

They both stopped mid-sentence and then broke into matching laughter. Tony didn't care how much of a lunatic he looked like – in the middle of a full-body laugh while alone on the balcony without so much as a phone in his hand (one of the traits of the sunglasses he had decked out with fancy tech that was both a pro and a con).

Tony recovered first, a grin still on his face. "You might as well keep talking, Steve. Save me from these idiots."

" _Everyone's an idiot to you, Tony,_ " Steve mused, amusement still clear in his voice and expression.

"Not everyone."

" _I'm glad we're friends, too._ "

Tony narrowed his eyes at Steve's image on the glasses lens. "Have you been taking lessons from Pepper?"

" _It's not that hard to translate to English,_ " Steve said with a one-shouldered shrug.

"I wonder what you guys call it. I bet it's _Stark-speech_ or something like that," Tony mocked, his grin turning a bit cynical.

Steve made a face. " _You're not the only one who does it._ "

"Well, there goes my track record for being one of a kind."

" _Technically, there's only one you…_ "

Tony groaned, stretching and then settling back into a more comfortable lean against the railing. "I asked you to talk, not go all philosophical on me."

Steve shrugged with both shoulders this time, even tilting his head a little with the motion. " _How have your dreams been recently?_ " he asked, and Tony really couldn't have had a better friend outside of his inner circle (which consisted of Pepper, Rhodey and Happy of course).

It was Tony's turn to make a face. The new subject wasn't exactly at the top of the list of things he'd like to talk about, but sometimes he and Steve had to talk about this sort of stuff because no one else really understood when they tried talking about it to someone who wasn't either of them. Which was extremely frustrating, but it cemented their need to stick together, no matter how much shit they put each other through.

" _That bad, huh?_ "

"Same for you then?" Tony asked back, closing his eyes and leaning forward to rest his head against clasped hands. The glass had gone cold despite the warmth of his hands.

Steve let out a huff. " _It's always worse for you, but yeah, I guess…_ " A long pause. A tired sigh. " _You know, sometimes I wonder how we let it get that bad— in that other timeline. Just… what the hell were we doing?_ "

"Being stubborn idiots, obviously," Tony said into the resulting silence.

He heard the shifting of cloth. Steve must have moved, maybe even shook his head at Tony's comment. " _Obviously,_ " he repeated.

Tony didn't respond to that. A minute or so later, a muffed voice filtered into the earpiece that came with the glasses. Tony couldn't quite make out the words, but he knew that Steve would probably end the call soon.

" _Listen, Tony— T'Challa wants to see me in half an hour. I should be free tomorrow morning around six, so uh, that's midnight for you?_ "

"Give or take," Tony responded, not bothering to correct Steve's math. He knew what Steve meant.

" _Right,_ " Steve went on, " _I guess I'll hear from you then?_ "

Tony opened his eyes, seeing the expectant but concerned raised eyebrow. "Nothing to guess about, Steve."

That got him one last smile. There was a farewell nod, and then Steve hung up.

"Really, _really_ stubborn idiots," Tony muttered to himself as his sunglasses reverted into just sunglasses with the end of the call (which was kind of annoying, given that it was almost midnight).

" _Would you like me to send the boss lady over, boss?_ " FRIDAY asked after Tony had stayed out on the balcony for another ten minutes by himself.

"I'm good, Fri," he sighed. "Just give me another minute, and I'll head back inside to play nice."

" _Anything you say, boss._ "


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: none? it's actually kinda fluffy, if a touch bittersweet
> 
> POVs: Gamora, Steve Rogers

— _Space, July 2016_ —

Mostly everyone aboard the _Milano_ was asleep – 'mostly' being everyone except Peter and Gamora, who had woken up when Peter passed her on the way to the front of the ship.

Earlier, they had essentially parked the Milano near some unnamed nebula. Their stop wasn't planned, but at the same time it had been something they all needed: a chance to just relax for a while. Sure, they were in the middle of nowhere – that was kind of the whole point though. No one would bother them out here (and there wasn't anyone besides each other to piss off).

Gamora let a frown mar her face. Peter had said he was fine when they stopped, but she'd been able to tell he wasn't as fine as he made himself out to be when he had said so. Clearly he still wasn't fine. And while she might usually just leave him alone to sort whatever it was out himself, this wasn't the sort of thing one was supposed to be doing to relax (that's what Peter would have said anyway).

But Gamora's main reason for following Peter was more that she was simply concerned. It had been two years since the team had been formed, and while they were more or less family, they still had their rough patches (like all families had really). That didn't excuse a rather harsh jab from Rocket about Peter's obsession with his home planet – Terra, or Earth as the sentient inhabitants called it.

It also didn't help that a couple weeks ago, they had gotten a patchy call from said planet. The call had completely cut out before they could get anything useful from the person on the other end, but they had been able to learn the call's origin and that the caller had been male... possibly with a female assistant.

The call was part of the reason why they had stopped (admittedly, 'relaxation' was just a cover – they would find a job far more relaxing than just drifting). If the caller tried to reach them again, then it would be easier to pick up if they were available to do so. And considering that Terra wasn't exactly known for being technologically advanced, that someone was calling from there had to mean _something_. Right?

So they waited. Mainly to see if the first attempt was a fluke. And Peter was desperately hoping it wasn't.

Gamora could tell it was eating at him, not that she really knew why. There wasn't anything left on Terra for him. Though, perhaps he wanted to see it again. She could understand that.

"Peter," she called to him, fining him staring out of the viewport.

He startled in a typical Peter fashion, which essentially meant that he jumped before trying to cover up his surprise by trying to look like he'd meant to do that. It made her smile on the inside, but outwardly she just raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Oh, hey, Gamora— I didn't think anyone else was up," Peter greeted her lamely.

She leaned on the doorway, giving him a _look_. "What's bothering you?" she asked, getting right to the point.

Peter's face went through several phases of emotions until settling on resignation. He let out an uncharacteristically tired sigh and moved closer to her. She let him drop his head on her shoulder, his hands on her hips. Her hands twitched before she shifted them down to settle over his.

Gamora had learned early on into their relationship that Peter's emotions were deeply connected (if not ingrained) to his actions, especially physical contact. At first she had thought it was just a human thing, but after the years had passed, she'd observed that this was a Peter thing – this need to seek comfort through touch, even if it was something as simple as a hand on the arm or platonic as hand holding (hugs were particularly powerful).

Slowly, she moved her hands up his arms to his shoulders and then down and then back up and down, feeling him turn into the touch. Her earlier frown made a come back before she quickly wiped it away. Peter was upset, but it wasn't because of Rocket. If it had been Rocket, then he would have just told her and proceed to brush the whole thing off. This was something else.

Continuing her repetitive petting (because there really wasn't a better word for it), Gamora thought of what the problem might be, anything that would make Peter shut down like this. Surely it couldn't have been— Oh. But it was.

"Peter," she said again, but this time it was more a lament – a shared sorrow. "If we need too, we can go to Earth to check out the source of the call. No one here is going to mind breaking a couple interference laws. Others have done worse than having a look around a planet under galactic protection— _we've_ done worse."

Peter lifted his head up a bit at her words, a frown of his own creasing his forehead. "What? No, it just—"

Something beeped loud enough to cut Peter off. They both stopped, staring at each other, waiting for a repeat of the sound. Then it rang again. The _Milano_ was getting a call.

Someone was calling them.

Peter was headed for the comm room before Gamora could stop him. Not that she would have. Still, now she had to catch up to him (not the hardest thing in the galaxy to do). Meanwhile, the others were waking up at the commotion. Somehow they were all in the comm room by the time Peter answered the call.

" _He— … Hello? Is anyone— … hear me?_ "

It was the caller from before. His voice was coming through stronger than it had before, and more words were making it through. It also seemed that the caller was trying to send a visual feed as well, if the static image on the screen was anything to go by.

"We hear you," Peter responded readily. "Do you need help? You're still coming through kinda patchy."

The caller paused. " _Hold that thought._ " Then quieter, faded - like he was talking to someone else: " _Shuri— … boost signal... Yeah— … didn't think of that._ "

That female voice from last time retorted something back, and then something _clicked_. The static cut out before everything resolved itself. A tan humanoid male was now on the screen with a darker skinned female entering in from the side.

" _Better?_ " the man asked. The word sounded far more smugly rhetorical than it needed to be.

— _Wakanda, June 2016_ —

It had been almost two months since Steve left the States. Two months since the now-King T'Challa had agreed to allow him into Wakanda in lieu of help: _help for Bucky_. Two months of careful talks between selected representatives. Two months of politics and diplomacy that Steve didn't have the patience for.

Tony should have been the one to come. Despite his reputation, Tony was far better at dealing with these kind of people than most gave him credit for. Meanwhile, Steve didn't really know what to do with himself.

He did his best to keep his responses honest while desperately trying not to offend anyone. He mostly kept his head down, not wanting to attract too much attention even with his status as one of T'Challa's special guests. And he avoided trouble, which was a lot harder than it should have been.

The Wakandans generally disliked outsiders. It wasn't a completely unfounded prejudice, nor was it a strong one. It still irked Steve either way. T'Challa had acknowledged this flaw in his people and had already begun to make changes, but even without certain political hoops that T'Challa might have had to jump through in other countries, Wakanda was a tradition driven country. Like all things that happen on a grand scale, it would take time for Wakanda to accept these changes.

Steve just hoped that no one here would violently protest the idea of Wakanda opening itself to the rest of the world. For that matter, he hoped that the rest of the world lash out too harshly at Wakanda. There were pros and cons to every decision, and having witness several of the cons himself, Steve could understand why Wakanda had chosen to stay hidden away from the rest of the world's problems for so long.

But they needed to come out of their hiding now. In the days, months and years to come, the world would need them. The world— no, the _universe_ would need _all_ of its heroes.

Several Dragon Flyers (at least, Steve was ninety-five percent sure that's what the planes were called) soared overhead, their engines humming as they passed by. Behind them came the Royal Talon Flyer. Tony would be on that one – well, he would be as long as he stuck to the plan and went along in the plane and not in his suit. Though, Steve was sure that Tony was a bit more preoccupied by the hidden city than he was with having to take in the sights while stuck in a plane, even as advanced as it was.

Steve let himself smile at the unbidden image. Tony was about to have a field day. While Tony had insisted that Peter Parker would catch on like fire with Wakanda's princess, Steve knew that Tony and Shuri would get along just as well. If anything, Shuri would show Tony a thing or two. Oh yeah, Shuri was definitely going to stun Tony speechless at least once.

Whatever it takes to get what needs to be done accomplished, Steve supposed with an amused twitch of his lips as he watched the Royal Talon land on the platform.

"Hey! What's that smile for?" Tony called out to him, carrying a small suitcase in one hand while he waved the other at Steve.

Steve shook his head. "Just a thought."

"Careful with those," Tony quipped, finally close enough for Steve to give him a rather one-sided hug. The genius wasn't big on the sudden physical contact, but Steve knew Tony needed the friendly touch just as much as he did. Abruptly, Tony made a face. "You grew a beard. Why did you grow a beard?"

"It helps me blend in," Steve answered with a one-shouldered shrug.

"Yeah, no, I'm not buying it." Tony took a step back, looking Steve up and down. "Also, what's with the outfit? I mean, it looks good on you, but I didn't think you needed to get all decked out."

The way Tony eyed the Wakandan clothes made Steve look down at himself. "T'Challa had it made for me. Didn't really feel like telling him no."

"A wise choice, I assure you," came a voice from behind them, and Steve turned to see T'Challa along with Everett Ross and a couple of the Dora Milaje walking up to them.

"Your highness," Tony greeted cordially, apparently on his best behavior.

T'Challa grinned at him. "Mr. Stark, it's good to see you again. Welcome to the Golden City of Wakanda. I'm sure you've met Agent Ross before, yes?" A round of nods, both in affirmation and greetings. "Ah, good. My sister has been waiting for your arrival. Come."

Ever to the point, T'Challa was already moving on. As they followed, Steve leaned over to whisper in Tony's ear. "I hope you're wearing your walking shoes. Shuri's lab is pretty far from the palace."

Tony glanced over at him sharply. "You're kidding, right?" he whispered back. "Right?"

Ross slowed down to walk next to him. "Well, we're not going to Shuri first. T'Challa wants to show you your rooms, and then there's a guest of honor dinner. You'll get to see her after that."

Tony passed Steve his suitcase so he could engage in a hands-free conversation with the other man. "Hey, Ross. Nice job on the liaison gig. I thought you were staying with the CIA though."

"I did too, but you don't turn down T'Challa when he offers you something. Especially when your bosses insist that you take him up on it," Ross told them. "But it's nice out here. Kind of like any other post, just with a few extra perks. Namely being friends with the king."

"Oh, you must get spoiled rotten with all the fancy gadgets around here," Tony mused.

Ross grinned at him. "Not as much as you're about to be."

Steve shook his head at the two of them. While Tony and Ross hadn't exactly met each other on the best of terms during the making of the Accords, it hadn't taken long for them to win the other over. That initial friendship – as minor as it was – had definitely helped since Ross had been their main link to T'Challa. As superheroes, talking to the Black Panther had been relatively easy. Getting in touch with the King of Wakanda had been another matter, one that Ross helped them with greatly.

By the time Tony had gotten a short tour of his rooms (and that's an understatement – Tony's set of rooms took up the space of a whole house, which Steve was sure Tony was used to, but when Steve first saw the rooms he had been given, he almost turned heel, ready to go back to his single room in the Avengers Facility), Ross had gone off to do something about getting an actual camera. Steve wasn't too sure on why the man needed a camera, but he was bound to find out eventually, which he did the very next day in Shuri's lab when Tony touched something Shuri told him not to.

"What did I just say?" the girl genius exclaimed at the older man, who was holding his left arm close to himself after getting zapped.

"You said it wasn't even on!"

"I still told you not to touch it!"

"Damn, my whole hand's numb."

Shuri let out an exasperated sigh of frustration, holding out her own hand. "Give it here."

Steve marveled at the easy compliance Tony showed after barely five minutes of meeting Shuri. Even after the whole Ultron and Vision thing, it had taken Tony a while to fully trust Steve with the little things. _Now_ was an almost entirely different story, but still…

The young lady shuffled Tony over to some kind of table-like bed that pulled up a bunch of readings on the wall next to it as soon as Tony sat down on it. Tony stared at the wall and poked at the table-bed while Shuri slapped his uninjured hand away and inspected the injured one. Shuri had started talking about pre-existing damage in Tony's left arm right as Tony started to ask her about what form of nanites she was using.

Steve looked over at Ross, who was grinning down at his phone, which was still recording. "You got all that, right?"

"You better bet I did."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: destruction of Asgard, allusions to death, nausea (but not anything more), the Time Stone being a weirdo again
> 
> POVs: Loki, Death, Stephen Strange

— _Asgard, Late November 2017_ —

It had just been _sitting there_ on that pedestal. How could he have _not_ taken it?

Loki had taken the Tesseract from the Vaults. Okay, so maybe it had been for less than altruistic reasons, and that really shouldn't have been what drove him to take it – but Loki _had_ taken it with him, and it was steadily burning a metaphorical hole in his metaphorical pocket.

It had been a bad idea – a horrible one, one that shouldn't have even occurred to him. He was only supposed to have put Surtur's crown on the eternal flame of Asgard and let things naturally progress into Ragnarok from there. He wasn't supposed to have even _looked_ over at the Space Stone's container.

But no. No, he had to have looked at it and thought, _It'd be a shame to just leave it here for Thanos to find in the space debris_. A bit morbid to think about, but it was true. And by that point, Loki couldn't help himself.

( _He lifted it up in offering, knowing it would be his end. He didn't really care though. Any price was worth paying if it meant Thor would stay alive._ )

"Death better be damn well pleased with herself," he muttered as he whisked the Infinity Stone away into a pocket dimension.

And, really, he should have known better than to say such things aloud, _especially_ when a planet-destroying event was about to take place. Loki felt her presence the moment he placed Surtur's crown in the flames. He heard the soft rustling of her cloak not a second later. And, turning, he saw her descend the staircase leading out of the Vaults, setting herself down on the floor once she was at the bottom.

He didn't have the time for a chat, not when Asgard was about to become rocks and star dust within the hour. He took off, running through the palace's halls and towards the closest path between worlds. That didn't keep Death from following him.

"I would have thought something else might have changed because of our previous conversation," she mused, floating along beside him, right as Surtur's growing form broke through the outside structure of the palace. "But Asgard is still going to be destroyed, and you still came into the possession of the Tesseract. So, really, I rather think I am… _Very_ pleased, in fact."

Far more concerned about getting off Asgard before Surtur could do some real damage, Loki didn't bother to respond, inwardly cursing himself for going along with Thor's stupid plan. He had just made it out of the city when something (probably the Hulk) smashed into Surtur's face. Loki watched as the Hulk then grabbed Thor and the Valkyrie, carrying them with him as he jumped onto the _Statesman_ , which started to flee Asgardian space.

_Why is this my life?_ Loki fumed. He couldn't teleport to the ship now, not with it moving that fast and already so far away. Loki turned to look over his shoulder at Surtur, who was now being attacked by Hela, and then back to the steadily shrinking spaceship. Maybe… if he could just get over to the edge of Asgard, then maybe he could—

"Brace yourself," was the only warning he got before he felt something (Death) grab him by the shoulders, bringing him to an abrupt halt, and suddenly he wasn't on Asgard anymore. In the moment it took for him to realize he'd been moved into a room aboard the _Statesman_ , the nausea hit him. That had not been his usual method of teleporting, and his magic rebelled against whatever the hell kind of _movement_ that had been.

Loki clapped a hand over his mouth and reached out for a wall _or something_ to steady him with his other hand. He forced himself to take a deep breath and willed his stomach and magic to calm down. Vomiting in front of Death was not high on his list of things he wanted to do in his life – _ever_. As soon as he'd collected himself, he straightened his posture and levelled a stare on the cloaked figure hovering half a foot above the floor.

"Oh, _please_ ," she scoffed with a roll of her pale eyes, crossing her arms beneath her cloak. "I'm the essence and embodiment of death. As long as there's death going on somewhere in the universe, I can be wherever whenever I want."

"Why are you here?" he asked in a tone as polite as he could manage at the moment.

Death's gaze went distant until something caused everything around him to shudder and shake. "That was the destruction of the realm once known as Asgard," she stated, waving a finger in what must have been Asgard's general direction.

Loki held back a wince. He may have been a willing participant in aforementioned destruction, but once upon a time, those golden halls of the palace had been _home_. The memories he had of the place weren't all bad. Some of them he still treasured deep within himself, even if they had been lies.

"Congratulations on the continued existence of the Asgardian people," she said after a minute.

Loki turned away from her, tempted to let out a scoff of his own. It wasn't like he was going to be the one associated with saving everyone aboard the _Statesman_. No, songs of that great deed would center on Thor, not Loki. The Hulk and the Valkyrie would more than likely be included, but not the trickster.

He lashed out. "What? Not even a mention of Hela, _Goddess of Death?_ " he asked in a half-sneer.

It ruffled Death's feathers, just not in the way Loki wanted it to. "First of all, we were sort of friends a very, _very_ long time ago, and after a little falling out, we weren't so close anymore. Secondly, she's not exactly good conversation material, now is she? Thought not. Third, she wasn't why I was here. Forth—"

"Okay! I get it," Loki cut her off before she could add on to the already annoyingly long list, clearly made in retribution for his attitude towards her.

Death grinned. "Good."

He watched her warily as she moved closer to him. Once she was less than a foot away, she raised herself to be eye level with him. A frown started to form on his face, but then she tapped him on the nose with a bony finger, startling him and making him step back. He was about to retaliate when he saw her grin turn into something closer to a smile.

"Loki, do yourself a favor and hug your brother the next time you see him," she said as her form started to fade from his sight. "And for Creation's sake, give up the greasy weasel look. You're much more handsome with clean hair."

It was long after he'd revealed his presence to Thor (accepting and maybe-probably-definitely enjoying the ensuing hug), long after he had convinced Thor to go to Nidavellir first, that Loki hesitantly pulled out the Space Stone from where he'd hidden it in a pocket dimension weeks ago.

He didn't come out of his room for the rest of the day or the day after. He heard the Hulk stomp past the door once or twice. Brunnhilde – the Valkyrie – stopped by, banging on his door and demanding that he come out or she'd drag his stupid ass out herself. She didn't get to do that though.

It was almost four days after he locked himself away with no explanation whatsoever when Thor knocked – _actually knocked_ – on the door and _asked_ if he could come in. Loki let the door unlock, and Thor walked into an absolute mess of a room. He didn't say anything – just sat down beside Loki, who was tightly curled up on the bed.

Thor frowned but nodded in slight acceptance when Loki eventually was able to say everything was okay.

( _He can't_ breathe _. It's so hard to_ think _past getting air to pass through his windpipe with that giant hand_ crushing his throat _. He knows he's going to_ die _, no matter what sick promises had been made about a prolonged punishment for his failures. He can't breathe, and the last thing he wants to do before he does die is tell his brother that_ not all is lost _._ )

( _Except, it is._ )

— _Norway, Early November 2017_ —

Death had to admit, Odin had picked a rather nice place for when he died. It was… peaceful here – the long grass swaying with every breeze, and the waves crashing against the cliff face in a steady rhythm that calmed the soul. But life and death were balanced here as well. The system simply occurred as it should – neither birth rates nor death rates overtaking the other abnormally.

Odin himself stood near the edge of the cliff, staring out at the ocean. He looked old, so terribly old and tired. That was how it often ended for those who lived as long as the Allfather had. Once upon a time, he had sought to delay this moment, as those who could often did, but now he welcomed it, welcomed her.

Drawing nearer to him, Death had taken a different form that this old man knew well: a shadow that left fire trailing after its footsteps, endless and ravaging, the call for more blood, more pain, more sacrifice. It had been over a millennia since she's walked the earth in this form. It wasn't that she disliked the appearance – more that she had others she preferred over it. Besides, it was more for show than anything else. Not that Odin would need the reminder to know what she was upon seeing her.

"I have seen the rest of your family recently far more often than I ever saw of you," Death said in an echoing rasp as she stopped next to him, the grass beneath her feet burning but not catching fire. "It makes one wonder what regrets have stemmed from the cause of such."

Odin didn't even look over at her, just continued staring out at the ocean. He didn't say anything either. When the silence went on for another ten minutes, Death focused on the storm clouds gathering along the horizon. Lightning splintered across the sky, jumping from cloud to cloud.

She knew Odin had regrets. He didn't have to say it. After observing the workings of life and death for so long, it was impossible not to notice that all beings had regrets. Some were more… important, more impactful than others.

Frowning inwardly, she took the time to give him another look. He was old and tired, as she had seen before, yes. But he seemed small – almost frail – without his impeccable armor, dressed instead in light-colored human clothes. Nothing at all like she'd seen him with Hela at his side, Death mused.

"It won't be much longer now, will it," Odin finally murmured, shifting and glancing to where she stood on his left side.

"No," she said simply. She could feel the weight of his stare upon her. Letting out a sigh, she allowed her appearance to shift into something more familiar, more human. What? She was feeling sentimental. Besides, the flames at her feet were starting to tickle.

Odin stared at her for another minute, then looked away and back out at the ocean. "You are not the only one here to see my passing."

It wasn't a question, but still… "Your sons find themselves getting closer by the minute."

She paused, a smile twitching at the corners of her pale lips. Thor seemed to be making much better progress at convincing the Master of the New York Sanctum than Loki was. Though, Tony Stark probably the only reason why Loki was being allowed to stay in this dimension while Thor and Stephen Strange conversed.

"To be fair, Loki really did think you'd be fine in the little retirement home he left you in," she went on after a moment. "Even after everything, he didn't wish harm to befall you."

Odin sighed. "And yet, it seems that the inevitable is now here. Once I am gone, Hela will seek to reclaim Asgard and continue her conquest… You never did agree with her in the end."

"I called her friend once." Death turned her gaze towards those dark storm clouds, watching the rain and lightning far in the distance. "But she changed, like they all do. She became bloodthirsty, didn't care who she killed as long as she got what she wanted. They never seem to be able to stay on this side of sane, let alone keep their morals."

Odin let out a thoughtful hum. "It was not you who tempted my daughter. She made her choices and was locked away for them. What she did and will do are her own actions. You did not whisper in her ear, filling her head with treacherous thoughts of slaughter and mayhem across the realms."

"No, I didn't," Death agreed shaking her head. "I just turned my gaze for a time and only bothered to watch while she rebelled against you. But I'm not just watching anymore."

"I noticed," was all Odin said.

Death took a few steps forward and sat down on the edge of the cliff. "I couldn't stand at the sidelines anymore," she began, the wind carrying her words to his ears. "It was half of the universe. It broke the system— _my system_. Why risk the chance that they couldn't fix it when I could make sure it never broke in the first place?"

"You have existed throughout the ages, and while you are not a god, _a creator_ , you have had your own hand in making the universe just as much as the others of your kind," Odin commented. "It is an investment you do not wish to lose."

Death looked down at the water and rocks far below her. She supposed he wasn't wrong, but her siblings wouldn't quite understand such an _attachment_. They were supposed to be involved, yes, but also impartial, separate. They could have their favorites and be upset or happy about events, but _this_ hadn't been done before.

It wasn't like she had been the only one that made the decision.

Sparks of orange caught her attention, and she willed herself away as the sparks formed a portal for the sons of Odin to walk through. She would be seeing one of them very soon.

— _New York City, March 2017_ —

Stephen had some time off, so to say. Wong had eventually joined him as a Master of the New York Sanctum, becoming company that Stephen would admit to enjoy once he admitted he hated to be alone. But even Wong managed to grate on Stephen's nerves, which called for times that Stephen preferred to have some space or just be in the company of _someone else_.

However, since Stephen wasn't exactly the most friendly of people, the _someone else_ tended to be Christine, who was the only human being able to put up with his tendencies before and was the only other one continuing to do so now. That being said, it had taken a little while for Christine to get back to what constituted at friendly terms with Stephen, but those weeks spent making it up to her were well worth her company now.

It was coming back from one of their… well, not a _date_ but a meeting of friends nevertheless, as he was taking a shortcut through a park to get back to the Sanctum that Stephen heard something he shouldn't have been able to. Not when was dressed in casual wear instead of his sorcerer outfit. Especially not when the Eye – the Time Stone – was still in Kamar-Taj. Definitely not when it had been at least a month since he'd last interacted with it.

( _It will come without warning._ )

( _Except you had every warning. You just didn't pay attention._ )

They were all ominous, but this time it was almost chastising. It didn't bode very well.

Stephen had done his research – or at least, as much as he could with what was available. There was nothing saying that Time Stone was able to do this, but at the same time, there wasn't anything saying it couldn't either. After realizing trying to find anything else about that matter was pointless, Stephen focused on actually learning to use the Time Stone properly, and, yes, he made sure to read the warnings too.

( _Did you though? Did you read about what happens when we come together? About what happens when the end comes?_ )

Stephen pushed the thoughts out of his mind. They weren't being particularly helpful; therefore, he didn't need to remember them.

( _You should remember though. It's more important than you'll ever know. It would have told you everything that went wrong and everything that went right – everything that went as it should have played out._ )

Stephen kept that one. It still wasn't as useful as he wanted it to be, but it was better than the last one. Pulling out the relevant pieces of information from the thoughts was about as tedious as searching for a needle in a haystack. It was worth it though. He was slowly piecing the puzzle together.

The thoughts were quiet for the rest of the walk back.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Loki not-coping with his future possible-death from Thor's point of view, Tony tendencies, Wanda not being an emotional wreck (because Pietro's alive, remember?)
> 
> POVs: Thor, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff

— _Space, January 2018_ —

Thor could tell something was wrong with Loki. Not exactly in a bad way, per se, but also not in a good way— Could something that was wrong ever be good? But that was beside the point: something was _wrong_. Thor just hadn't figured out what it was yet.

He knew that it had started around the time Loki _suggested_ they stop by Nidavellir on the way to Earth – Loki's main reason being that "not only is it on the way to Earth but it's also a known, relatively safe location to rest after a couple months in deep space" and that "who knows when you might need a new hammer", which were actually both excellent points— Wait, sidetracking. So Loki's _wrongness_ had started around that time, or quite possibly even beforehand. Loki was good at hiding things, but this was starting to show.

_This_ being some kind of… depression.

Thor could hardly get Loki to say anything. If it were the Loki from Before – meaning Loki from a time before Thor's failed coronation, before Loki found out about his true heritage –, then Thor might not have suspected much aside from the possibility of a prank directed at certain persons, but that Loki always had something to say. Even the Loki of After would have eventually said some snide comment or jab to get in the last word. Now it was all looks and expressions, nod or shake of his head, short sentences if it was more than a single word.

During some of the times that Thor managed to find Loki, he was staring out into space, sitting in an isolated observation room. Loki wouldn't acknowledge Thor, but whenever Thor sat down next to him, he seemed to relax. And then when they parted, nothing of what Thor wanted to say actually said, there was this pained look in Loki's eyes.

It was almost as if Loki was mourning someone. It might have been anyone, including Thor himself, but he had the feeling that wasn't quite right. It didn't make much sense to think that either.

Thor could only conclude that Loki _knew_ something. Loki knew something, and it had to do with that Infinity Stone he was carrying.

Oh, Thor had known about _that_ since Loki had gone through the first indication of his depression. Loki had outright admitted to having it – right after lying that everything was okay, that he was fine.

The problem that Thor was faced with was that he didn't know what Loki knew, and to be fair, Thor would never know everything Loki did. But this was something that Loki had been, at the same time, secretive and blunt about.

_Something_ was coming, and they needed to be ready.

But Thor already knew about Thanos. He had told Odin— Well, no. Actually, that would have been Loki disguised as Odin at the time, wouldn't it? Some things clicked into place as Thor realized _that's why_ Loki had ruled Asgard under an isolationist policy. Things had been so hectic that Thor hadn't even thought about that.

So, then the way Loki was acting… That had to mean that Thanos was coming _now_. That the war his friends, Tony and Steve, had spoke of was looming upon the horizon. That they were in the midst of the calm before the storm. That was what Loki knew.

These thoughts were troubling, but all the same, Thor grinned.

He knew something Loki didn't know.

He knew that Tony and Steve had been working to win the war before it had even begun. He knew that while they had lost in some future reality, they could win this time. He knew that they all had a chance to come out of this war alive.

Thor looked over to the navigation computer and saw that they were about halfway to Nidavellir now. Maybe he could convince Loki that such claims were valid by the time they reached the Dwarven realm. With his mind made up, Thor nodded to himself. He needed to find his brother.

— _New Avengers Facility, July 2015_ —

It was not okay.

Well, actually mostly everything was just fine. The world was still spinning, for one, and none of the supervillains had decided come out to play lately. Therefore, Tony had loads of free-time, which was an absolute _lie_ by the way. Between designing new tech for Stark Industries to release in the fall (to be honest, this was probably the easiest thing on his plate right now) and looking for Steve's thought-dead-but-apparently-not best friend, it was difficult enough to find any time to devote to his usual routines.

But he supposed that was okay. Because he still got to spend time with the team, who actually treated each other like friends (maybe-possibly even family?). Because while Tony was technically retired from field work, Steve and the others still came to him for everything else. Because he really didn't mind – he felt useful.

What wasn't okay was the fact that he still hadn't found James "Bucky" Barnes. It was getting on Tony's last nerves. He should have found the Winter Soldier by now. Every week – when he was able to swing by anyway – Steve would find Tony somewhere and ask that same question. Well, now Steve would just show up, and Tony would just respond aloud to the unspoken question with his same answer of _no_.

Because _Bucky_ was being one sneaky little slightly-amnesic fugitive assassin/hit-man.

There was probably a better way to put that, but Tony didn't really care at the moment because he was way-totally-completely high on caffeine right now, and his brain was in overdrive, and when he did happen to come down, he was going to _crash_. Which, really, definitely wouldn't be a good thing, but Tony had gotten a lead the other night, and he was still following the trail. Stringing normal-coherent sentences together as thoughts wasn't important.

He was going to have a real answer for Steve this week. Tomorrow— wait, no, _today_   Steve was coming back in from some minor thing somewhere across the country that Tony didn't really remember at the moment _because details_ , and when Steve got back, Tony wanted to be able to say something slightly more than "I think your BFF is headed for Romania", which was technically already better than just "no", but still the name of a city is even more better than the name of a country, right? Right.

And this was all forgiving the 'your-parents-were-murdered' thing. Except it wasn't Bucky who killed them, Tony had to remind himself. It was the Winter Soldier who did that. But Bucky was the Winter Soldier— no, Bucky was Steve's friend who was brainwashed into that monster… yeah.

Tony still wasn't too sure on how he felt about the whole situation, but he wanted to help Steve out because they were friends ( _family_ ), and that was that.

The lights cut out.

"Jarvis!" Tony shouted into the darkness. But wait. No. That wasn't right. No, it's not JARVIS now. It's—

"Boss?" FRIDAY answered instead.

_Right_.

Tony pulled at his hair as he ran a hand through it. "Sorry, Fri. I know I said I wouldn't do it again."

"It's fine, boss," the UI replied, sounding unruffled, though Tony could hear the edge of concern.

He had thought he'd gotten over losing Jarvis. Apparently not. "Um, what happened to the lights, Fri?" he asked, steering away from _that_ issue.

"It would appear a skirmish between Falcon and an unknown person has resulted in several wires crucial to the powering of the facility to be," Friday paused, as if she were unsure of how to describe the damage, "disconnected," she eventually ended with.

Tony knew that Falcon would be fine. Sam wasn't stupid (or so Steve kept telling Tony), and if he did need help, then he would have called it in. Besides, Friday was talking in past tense, so whatever it was must have been dealt with for now. And, of course, Mr. Sam Wilson left behind a mess. Whatever, Tony wasn't that concerned.

"Disconnected, huh?" Tony murmured, trying to find a flashlight or even his phone – just something to produce light. Why the hell hadn't he put emergency lights in here? It wasn't his workshop, sure, or even his room for that matter, but— "What happened to Flyboy? And where's everyone else for that matter?"

"Mr. Wilson ceased combat and appears to be acting as if nothing happened, possibly because it looks like he may have lost, though final battle status remains inconclusive. The Maximoffs are in town for the afternoon, and Vision is currently headed your way, boss."

"ETA on Steve. He can chew out Wilson if need be. I'm not supposed to be in here," Tony said, finally finding his phone. He upped the brightness and headed for the door.

"Captain Rogers is estimated to be back by dinner. You still have a few hours, boss," she informed him, and if computer programs could smile slyly, then Tony could totally imagine that Friday would be doing so.

"Thanks, Fri." Tony slipped out of the room and quickly made his way to the closest communal room, taking a deep breath upon seeing naturally lit, open room.

Vision walked in not a moment later. "Is everything all right?" he asked, eyes boring into Tony.

"Yeah, Sam's got some explaining to do to Cap later though," Tony said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Is that the new outfit Wanda got you? It looks nice."

Vision wasn't falling for it. "Why were you in the Captain's room?"

Well, there went any plans at keeping it from everyone else. At least Vision could keep a secret. Kind of. They were working on it.

Before Tony could even reply, Friday answered for him. "Today is Captain Rogers's birthday. Mr. Stark was leaving Captain Rogers a birthday gift in his room, as the tradition is to give the birthday person a present."

Vision blinked. "I see," he responded after a moment. "Is that why Wanda and her brother went into town?"

"Probably," Tony shrugged.

They both stood in silence for a solid, tense minute until Vision tilted his head and asked, "What did you give the Captain?"

Tony smiled a shit-eating grin. "You'll see."

He may not have a whole lot of free time between his projects for Stark Industries and looking for Bucky, and helping out the other Avengers ate most of the rest of his work hours. That didn't mean he couldn't squeeze in a few minutes for this.

Steve had mentioned it a while ago – even before the whole Ultron thing. It was about time Tony had finished it, and now was the best time to give it to Steve. After all, it wasn't everyday someone gave you a free, no-strings-attached, blast from the past.

Some people said Captain America needed to move on, but Tony knew that sometimes Steve needed to remember what he was moving on from. It was just some of Howard's old notes, but there were pictures too. One in particular had been a bit of trouble to get, but Tony had acquired the locket in the end.

Whether or not Steve appreciated it all was another matter. Still, Tony thought it would at least earn him a smile of gratitude for remembering his birthday (not that it was the hardest thing to remember). So, yeah, things were okay.

Vision spoke up again, breaking Tony out of his reverie. "Is it not also tradition to… throw a party?"

— _The Barton Homestead, August 2015_ —

"Hey, can you help me with this?"

Wanda watched as her brother gave Barton an almost scandalized look. And for a moment she thought he would just shrug the man off, but then Pietro cocked his head to the side, giving the luggage a discerning eye, and stepped forward. "Alright. Sure, old man."

"I'm not that old, kid," Barton retorted with the semblance of a grin spreading on his face.

"And we are not children," Wanda decided to input. She pushed off from the side of the truck she was leaning against to walk beside her brother and Barton as they moved the luggage onto the front porch of the house.

Barton let out a snort, but it wasn't one of derision. "Yeah, well, you two are the youngest out of all the Avengers— and, no, we're not counting Vision because he's an android or whatever. Besides, you both agreed to this, and that means you both get to put up with any and all of me and my family."

He wasn't wrong. Stark had suggested that she and Pietro go with Barton back to his homestead. It was supposed to be an exercise in restraint (since they weren't supposed to use their powers while here except when training, which would be overseen by Barton himself) and emotional context (Wanda wasn't sure what Stark had fully meant by that). To be honest, she was glad to have been able to leave the New Avengers Facility.

It wasn't that they hadn't been able to leave before. No, any Avengers member could technically go anywhere within given reason, but most chose to either stay on the grounds in the rooms provided to them in the Facility or in their homes located elsewhere. This choice to stay in the Facility was because they could be called out at any time, and therefore some of them should stay on call.

Though, the 'New' Avengers were rarely sent out. Supposedly this was because they were still in training and getting used to working in a team, which resulted in her and Pietro and Vision specifically being… not grounded but still kept from most skirmishes and minor fights. And while Wanda wasn't completely adverse to being sidelined, she would have preferred to have something to do instead of merely 'hanging out' around the Facility grounds.

That being said, it was nice to get a change in scenery. Even if it would only be for a couple months before Barton drove them back to the Facility.

Wanda was determined to fulfill and exceed whatever expectation Stark had for her about this mission. Because that was more or less what this was, disguised behind a retired agent and his family. She knew Stark had sent them here to help further their control of their abilities, but at the same time, it was a break. Rogers had said that this was a way for them to have a moment of peace, normalcy.

It made her wonder how long Stark and Rogers had been conspiring about this little exercise. The two seemed to make every decision together nowadays, sharing command and responsibility as equally as they could. It was… admirable – almost inspiring – in a way. It certainly gave her hope.

Hope that whatever was to come could be stopped.

She shoved the thought from her mind. Those visions had not been hers to see.

Pietro nudged her with his elbow, and she looked up to see Mrs. Barton open the door, an infant in her arms and two other children at her sides. Husband and wife greeted each other with passion, and everyone was herded inside. As Wanda closed the door behind her, she inwardly closed a different door.

What she had seen in Stark's mind that day wasn't going to happen. Not if Stark and Rogers could help it. Not if the rest of the team helped them. Not if their plan succeeded. And she would make sure it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UI is short for natural-language user interface, for those who didn't know. Technically, JARVIS and FRIDAY aren't artificial intelligences while Ultron and Vision are.
> 
> Also, totally got that Ant-Man cameo in there XD
> 
> Oh, and the party Vision mentioned is definitely the one Steve referenced back in chapter 4 (Wanda and Pietro had gone into town to meet Clint, not just get the assumed presents).


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Stan Lee cameo (that's not really a warning though), the Accords (idk, some people hate them; i'm not really getting into the politics of it anyway), Infinity Stones are starting to need their own special warning here (they're just being creepy, but still), and Tony having anxiety over the Accords
> 
> POVs: Peter Quill, Death, Stephen Strange, Tony Stark

— _Space, January 2018_ —

( _Dust._ )

( _Dark. Dust._ )

( _Orange. Red. Blue. Purple. Green. Yellow._ )

( _DarkDustDeathnotdeath_ )

( _orangeredbluepurplegreenyellow_ —)

"Quill! Hurry up— We don't got all day, dipshit."

Peter snapped his head around to the offending voice of Rocket, who more than likely would have had his arms crossed if he hadn't been holding his gun. The others didn't even bat an eye at the 'banter' between teammates.

"Look— I got it! I got it— _Sheesh_ , guys. Ya don't need to be rude," Peter grumbled, stuffing the package into his bag and inwardly shaking off the weird feeling he'd gotten after picking up said package.

Rocket was being especially rude, in Peter's fine opinion. Just because he was a little clumsy with the Orb during their first job together didn't mean that the stupid raccoon (because that's what Rocket was, Peter was sure of it) had to go around calling him fumble fingers. If anything… okay, well… So maybe Peter _was_ one of the clumsiest in their little group, but Rocket still didn't need to be a dick about it.

Anyways, this was a very, very important and top secret mission, confidential to a very select few: the Nova Prime, the Guardians of the Galaxy (of course), and the Terrans who'd set this all in motion almost a year and a half ago. Simply put, the Orb – or more specifically the Power Stone inside – couldn't stay on Xandar. That had been made very clear.

The thing was, it couldn't just be taken out of the Nova Corps Vaults and moved. If it were that easy, Irani Rael would have just had the Orb constantly escorted from sector to sector in a random pattern to keep it safe. No. No one could know that the Orb had been moved, or rather, who had taken it.

That was where the Guardians of the Galaxy came into play. They wouldn't be at the top of the list of people who'd've taken the Power Stone after being the ones to make sure it was locked away. And with their odd jobs, the location of the Orb would be just as confounded as in the too-easy plan they could have gone with. Plus, there weren't many others who would take on such a suicidal task.

Well, maybe the Nova Prime was slightly more suicidal. After all, she had agreed to keep the Nova Corps' loss of the orb discreet. If the Big Bad was as big and bad as the Terrans implied (which, really, Thanos was – Gamora would slap Peter over the head for thinking otherwise), then clearly Thanos would be coming after the Power Stone sometime soon. And maybe the Nova Corps would be able to hold him off, but if not, then Xandar was screwed.

Irani Rael understood this, though. She even told them as much, and then she told them that if Thanos did get the Power Stone, then it would be that much easier for him to take the rest. Gamora had backed the Nova Prime up on this. Thanos was too much of a threat to take lightly.

So… in short, Rocket was still an asshole. Gamora was worried. Groot was now the equivalent of a teenager. Drax was Drax. Mantis was Mantis. And Peter had the Power Stone in his pocket.

The galaxy would be just fine… Yeah.

— _Vienna, Late March 2016_ —

Death grimaced as her kin bickered with each other, bouncing amongst various topics like molecules in a heated container. Chaos and Order had been at it for almost a day and a half straight now. Even for a cosmic entity like herself, it was becoming a bit much. If being in the same space with only one of them was liable to grate on her nerves, dealing with both was insufferable.

"Why are either of you even here right now?" she hissed at them during a brief lull in their incessant conversation.

"We could ask the same of you," Order answered promptly.

"You're not supposed to be here for another couple days," Chaos added immediately after.

Death held back an irritated growl. She hated it when they did that. _Tag-teaming pests._ But they had a point. She was early. In fact, this event in particular was early (and by more than just a couple days).

She could be elsewhere. There was always some place that needed her attention. Instead, she was here for an event that (in this timeline) wouldn't take place until the major conference later in the week. But by the universe itself, this was _important_.

If this didn't turn out right, Tony Stark and Steve Rogers might not have the backing of Earth – at least not both of them, and it needed to be both of them. Together, they were effectively a symbol of hope, of unity. It would be something they needed for the coming war. The chances of uniting an army of multiple worlds and peoples against Thanos would be slim to none if the forces of Earth couldn't show that they could unite themselves and establish themselves as a major player… a major team player at that.

However, it wasn't the cooperation of Stark and Rogers she was concerned about. The two humans had been working together far better than in the original Path. She might have mistaken them for… _partners_ if she didn't know about their interests in certain others. Nevertheless, they knew what was at stake (or, well, as much as what they could grasp – no human was about to understand the complexity of the Universe).

So, no, it wasn't her chosen pair that had her putting up with Chaos and Order in the same room instead of being elsewhere doing significantly more important things than waiting.

An outcry from the other side of the room interrupted her thoughts just enough to have her actually pay attention to what was going on around her. After deciding it was just another petty accusation, Death rounded on her siblings. " _If either of you delay the Accords conference because of something right now, I will send both of your heads to the Dark Dimension._ "

Even with the dissonant edge that creeped into her voice, Chaos simply made an entirely sarcastic gasp of offense while Order merely frowned at the threat. It wasn't even a proper threat. It would take the two a little while to shift back to this dimension, but they _would_ be back eventually. Actually, it was a rather empty threat.

Order needed to be here to make sure the politicians kept level heads, and Chaos was an inevitable factor whenever it came to these kinds of global decisions. After all, humans rarely ever came to unanimous conclusions. There was always someone who couldn't help but disagree, which was great for some things but not this. Such behavior just made everything else stressful.

"Oh, relax, sis," Chaos said in his careless drawl. "If shit is going to go down, then shit's gonna go down. And if everything works out, then shit's still gonna go down. It's how things work."

"On the other hand, there is a chance that since it isn't Thaddeus Ross who proposed these Accords this may resolve on a rather peaceful note," Order pointed out. "Either way, the Accords will pass. We've made sure of that."

"So you are being useful then."

"Hey!" Chaos and Order shouted in unison.

Death frowned as the politicians, the chosen representatives of their peoples, went into even more of an uproar. In the several minutes that it took to resettle and continue on with whatever decision they were supposed to be coming to, Death slipped out of the room and into the hallway, where she was stopped by some aged custodial worker with dark sun-glasses.

"Don't let them get to you, lassie."

Feeling a twinge of amused irritation, Death overlooked the term the Watcher used to describe her by and merely nodded her acknowledgement of his understanding. Watchers were rare to cross paths with, even with their observance of everything. Seeing one could mean a number of things, but this one made her smile. It was going to be a good week.

— _New York, April 2017_ —

Wong had told him to go to bed. Stephen had said no. Multiple times. Then Wong had unfairly knocked him out (but to be fair, Stephen hadn't slept in—). Because unconsciousness counts as sleep. (No, it actually doesn't.) But Stephen wasn't about to point out states of rest to the librarian – not right now.

Of course, in the unconscious state that he was in, Stephen knew (at least subconsciously) that this could only have been a dream… that wasn't a dream. While technically unconsciousness did allow for some level of dreaming as the brain was still active, this was far too vivid even for REM cycle. And though Stephen prided himself on being a lucid dreamer, this was a bit much.

What..?

( _Why do people think of time in past, present and future? That's ridiculous. Time isn't anywhere near linear. It's all twisted and jumbled and wrapped around itself. It can change, be cut and tied together and rewritten except when there's a knot – a fixed point that cannot be changed and will always happen no matter what timeline or universe you're in._ )

It was a time forgotten. A world – a universe half empty and the dust that filled the void. Bits and pieces that had bleed through but were swept away by forces unseen. A collage of things that happened shredded and torn and refitted into a new image.

( _So what makes you think time doesn't encompass every passing moment of anything that could have been, has been, is and will be?_ )

Stephen woke with a startled gasp, heart racing and blood rushing through his veins. And in the distance, the echo of what _couldhavebeenhasbeeniswillbe_ faded into the night.

— _Vienna, April 2016_ —

Despite the fact that it was the first of April ( _ha ha_ , yeah, April Fools' Day people), this – in no way – was in fact a joke.

No, this was very, very serious, and Tony might just maybe be on the verge of panicking. Which was stupid because he was totally ready for this. Okay, no he wasn't because if he screwed up (because it _would_ be him to be the one who screwed up), then they would all be screwed because—

A hand landed on his shoulder. Steve. That was Steve. Only Steve and Pepper were magically (and Tony used this word lightly) able to know exactly when such a physical gesture would actually help. And since Pepper was manning the fort in the good ol' US of A, it had to be Steve, who Tony was like 99.8% sure had made a deal with Pepper about keeping an eye on him.

Tony still felt himself relax.

"It'll be fine, Tony. We already know they're going to want to change some parts, but you made, what? A million contingencies?" Steve humored him.

And Tony had to admit that Steve's attempts were helping, if only a little. "Closer to several billion that I can throw at them, but sure," he managed to force out with a modicum of his usual swagger.

"Tony…"

It had taken a long time, but Tony could hear the fondness in the way Steve said his name now. It used to be bemusement and frustration and disappointment. Nowadays, Tony rarely heard anything but that confident comradery, comfort, sometimes underlying concern – like now.

Steve must have sensed Tony being on the borderline edge of panic because Tony felt himself being gently lead into one of the private side rooms that the building apparently had. Steve had Tony sit down and then knelt down so he was looking up at Tony.

"Hey, it'll be fine," Steve repeated in that calm-collected-trust-me voice.

Tony knew that. He knew that. But this was _important_ , and he was _freaking out_.

"You don't have to go in. I'm fairly certain I can do your part, too. I've heard you go over it enough times," Steve suggested.

_This idiot._ "No, I can do it," Tony snapped.

Steve looked like he was about to say something when someone knocked on the door. Natasha peaked her head in, only raising an eyebrow at the way they were situated. "Well, come on, boys. Let's get this show on the road."

"Now or never," Tony muttered, causing Steve to squeeze his shoulder as they made their way back to the conference room.

They had talked about this. They had talked and talked and had whole silent conversations and joked and were dead serious and... well, the only real argument they'd had over it had been at the beginning. The rest was just working out the kinks, compromising, making it work. Making sure it was okay with the team. And now—

" _If everyone would please be seated, this assembly is now in session._ "

Tony took a deep breath. Now it was time to propose his— Tony looked at Steve and quickly amended the thought. _Their_ Accords _._


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: a bit of implied light Stony during the obligatory Christmas scene in the beginning (but you don't have to read it that way, I do have them tagged as just friends) with confirmed Pepperoni in the scene right after
> 
> POVs: Steve Rogers, Peter Parker, Death

— _New Avengers Facility, December 2016_ —

Steve was about to knock on the door when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw the text notification from Friday: _Boss is asleep_. It made Steve pause. As much as he and Pepper had gotten Tony to curb his lock-in streaks (the ones where Tony worked for days on end in his workshop), Steve knew Tony – the insomniac that the inventor was – still didn't get nearly as much sleep as he should.

If he went in now, he could accidently wake Tony up (which really was a fifty-fifty percent chance since while the man was a light sleeper, he could also be dead to the world after one of his longer work sessions). But Steve supposed he could just leave a message, or he could try and catch Tony later…

Steve's phone vibrated again, and he looked down to see yet another text notification: _Door's not locked, Captain_. Which essentially meant that Friday was okay with him waking Tony up, and if she was okay with it, then Steve really didn't have anything to worry about. Except having to wake Tony up.

Taking in a steeling breath, Steve opened the door and quietly walked into Tony's sacred space. He remembered the last time he was allowed in here rather vividly. It was pretty hard to forget, enhanced memory or not. Bucky had been there too – albeit sans metal arm and decidedly unconscious. But that was then, and now was not the time for idle reminiscing.

Steve carefully mapped his path through the room and to a sleeping Tony, softly snoring and in a position that Steve figured wasn't too good for his back. Steve also made sure to be mindful of how much noise he was making – too much noise would undoubtedly wake Tony in a panic early at an unidentified presence while too little noise would do the same thing but when Steve was just within touching distance of Tony.

Steve had actually gone over this with Pepper before, and he had to admit that she was much better at this than he was. Still, Steve was versed enough in Pepper's ways to not spook Tony before even getting within ten feet of him. Not that it was such a comforting thing out of context, which was also off topic.

Right, back to the matter at hand.

Tony was already stirring, the occasional twitch of his fingers and brief frowns that crossed his face alerting Steve to his friend's level of awareness. "Tony," he called softly, stopping a couple feet away. "Tony…"

The man mumbled something and shifted, turning his head to possibly get into a more comfortable position (though Steve doubted it would help at this point). And it took another moment, but Steve knew exactly when Tony breached the realm of consciousness. His shoulders tensed and then slowly relaxed. His head rose as bleary eyes blinked. He could have been compared to a cat with the way he languidly stretched even with the pauses that came from realizing all of the muscle cramps after a long nap in an awkward position.

Steve almost wanted to stop and draw this.

This moment of domestic bliss.

It didn't even truly belong to them.

"Cap?" Tony yawned, rubbing his eyes with one hand. "What's up?"

"Tony…" Might as well get this out of the way first, not that it was any less important than all the other things Steve had to say. "Would you mind letting Bucky come down here sometimes? I know you're always dragging him back to fiddle with his arm, but do you—"

"What, so you want me to help keep an eye on him while you're out on missions?" Tony cut in, giving Steve a funny look. "I already do that, Cap."

Steve shook his head. "No, I know. I just… He needs more than just me, Tony, and I know you can help him in ways that I can't."

"Steve, I'm not—"

"Please, Tony. I wouldn't ask if I didn't think you could do it."

They stared at each other, and in the end, Tony looked away first and mumbled something about supersoldiers and unfair staring contests. Steve knew Tony would agree – if not right then, perhaps later on, but they were at the point that it was hard to say no to the other without good reason.

"Everyone else is upstairs," he commented, leaning against Tony's desk. "They wanted to know where you were."

The inventor let out a huff and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I guess it's really hard for them to miss my brilliant presence. Look, this isn't exactly my type of holiday."

"That doesn't mean you can't enjoy spending time with them, being with your family," he pointed out.

A confused frown held fast before fading into something far more open. "Is that what we are?" he asked quietly.

Though he didn't say anything, Steve smiled at him and pulled out a small box to hand it over. Tony looked at it and then up to Steve's face with a questioning expression. Steve gestured for Tony to take it and then waited until he finally did. "This is a bit early, but it's my gift to you."

"But— I haven't even gotten you anything yet…" Tony protested, suddenly moving to give it back.

Steve reached to curl Tony's hands around the present, gently pushing it towards the inventor. "Merry Christmas, Tony."

With that, Steve stood and left, knowing Tony would be joining him on his own time.

— _New Avengers Facility, January 2017_ —

"Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark!" Peter almost knocked the man over because of the running-to-hug-him thing, but he was just so _excited_. "Thank you so much— This is awesome!"

Having stumbled back after being assaulted by an energized teenager, Tony awkwardly patted Peter's back before mostly returning the hug. Not that Peter particularly minded the older man's hesitance. Peter totally got that maybe he was a bit winded because Peter did have a bit of supernatural strength and maybe he hadn't exactly been restraining himself all that well because he was back at the Avengers Facility, which was super awesome, and Peter really couldn't express just how cool this was in words, which ended up with Peter just hugging Tony… and, yeah.

Tony cleared his throat, pulling back from the hug, so Peter stepped back and gave him his full attention. Because Peter could do that for Tony. Even if Peter didn't always listen to the man he looked up to, Peter did at least hear what he had to say before not doing as he was told. That's what all teenagers did, right?

"Right, come on. There's someone I want you to meet. I mean, you're meeting everyone, but she's on a whole 'nother level," Tony rambled as he guided Peter through the compound – walking out of the garage place, across the massive lawn and into one of the bigger buildings (which was the same one Happy had taken him to meet Tony in last summer but it was through a different door on the complete other side of the building so it took a moment for Peter to recognize it). "I swear, you two will be super best friends— like literally, the best of super friends. You'll love her. Speaking of, how's it going with that MJ girl?"

"Huh?"

Peter may or may not have stopped in his tracks like a deer in headlights. He wasn't quite sure. He did know that he hadn't been expecting Tony to bring MJ up. Tony, of course, gave him a knowing look, which included a raised eyebrow, and wrapped an arm around Peter's shoulders, moving them along down the hallway.

"Don't give me that— You should know by now that I keep tabs on you, kid. So, when are you going to ask her out?" Tony asked, as straightforward as he could possibly get post-ramble, which Peter was starting to think was an intricate diversion tactic than actual rambling.

"Um, eventually?" Peter tried.

Tony was shaking his head. "Man, you're helpless. Tell you what, ask her out by the end of your senior year, I'll send Pepper your way for actual relationship advice."

"You better. I'd hate to see him flounder during his first date because of your tutelage," a female voice called out of nowhere.

"Pepper!" Tony exclaimed right as Peter squeaked out, "Ms. Potts?!"

Of course, Peter had met her before – she had handled all of the paperwork for his 'internship' with Stark Industries after all. And she was a wonderful lady, if a bit terrifying at times. He just wasn't used to being around her… in this setting. Yeah.

"Pep, as much as I would love to spend time with you, I'm on babysitting duty until further notice—" Tony started.

"Uh huh, you can make up for that comment later," Pepper cut him off, moving forward to place a finger over his lips to keep him from talking. "I thought you weren't getting back until lunch."

Peter could only stare as Tony frowned down at the finger, obviously tamping down on some off-shot comment that he wanted to say but would likely get him into trouble with his fiancée. That didn't keep Peter from breaking out of his shock to blurt out, "When's the wedding?"

Pepper glanced over to him in mild surprise (more than likely at the subject of the question than the question itself). "I haven't set a date yet, but between my job at Stark Industries and Tony's on and off status as an Avenger, I just don't know when to have it scheduled," she admitted.

"Well, most weddings happen between late summer and early fall, so if you're really pressed, you could try August. But, I mean, if you're going for something more symbolic you could go for a spring month," Peter suggested, hoping that it came across as helpful and totally not weird, but both Tony and Pepper were staring at him now and that hope was quickly dashed.

Then Tony shook his head. "Nope. I don't even want to know why you have that random fact stored in that head of yours— hey!" he yelped as Pepper slapped his arm.

"Ignore him," she told Peter as Tony rubbed his arm, and then she rounded on her fiancé. "We're having a private dinner tonight. You are going to meet me outside by the car at four so we can go somewhere nice, and you will not be late."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Pep," Tony said with a happy smile.

Meanwhile, Peter was standing awkwardly to the side, feeling like he was being witness to something that maybe he shouldn't be watching but at the same time they were letting him be there, so he probably shouldn't feel so embarrassed. Then again, it was starting to seem like the two might kiss, which would be totally fine because they were engaged and everything—

"Okay then, we have some royals to meet," Tony declared suddenly, pulling himself (somewhat reluctantly) away from Pepper. And Peter just nodded his head several times. "Then let's go," he went on, dragging Peter once again down the hallway, only pausing to call over his shoulder, "Love you, Pep!"

Three hallways, two doors and an elevator ride later, Peter was standing in a lab. It clearly wasn't Tony's personal workshop or anything, but in no way could anyone ever state that any of Tony's labs were not state of the art.

"Ah, there you are!" yet another female called to them, though this time Peter didn't know who the voice belonged to. "I was starting to think you might have forgotten about me."

A girl appeared, and Peter's mind blanked out for a moment. The first thing he noticed was that she was his age, and the second was that she was dressed in a style that was… different. It didn't look bad on her, but he had certainly never encountered it before. That didn't factor in her accent, and really, he could only place her as a foreigner.

"Shuri, Peter Parker. Kid, Princess Shuri," Tony introduced them quickly. "All right, now go have brain-childs."

"Peter?" she – Shuri – repeated with a confused head tilt until suddenly her entire demeanor brightened in recognition. "Oh, you're the spider with a brain— Tony's told me all about you!"

Peter was feeling rather caught off guard. "M-Mister Stark, you talk about me–?" Peter turned, only to find an empty space where Tony had been and the door mysteriously closing with a soft click, signaling the older man's swift departure (though, to be fair, he would probably be watching this all through FRIDAY). "Mr. Stark?!"

"Eh, who needs that old man for supervision," Shuri waved a dismissive hand at Tony's absence, and then she was very close in Peter's personal space, which he didn't really mind that much, except she was apparently a princess and she was _right there_. "We're going to have so much fun! So, tell me, what's your opinion on the multi-verse theory? What do you use to make your webs? Has Tony shown you nanotech yet? Oh! And how good is your meme repertoire?"

(On the other side of the building, the Wakandan king, a supersoldier, two spies and a couple more friends made bets on how long it would take for Shuri and Peter to blow something up. To be fair, no one won aforementioned bets because certain AI and UI were working together to keep an eye on the two. Not that anyone except a very smug genius knew about that.)

— _Knowhere, August 2017_ —

Death didn't particularly like coming here. It had nothing to do with the fact that the place was actually the severed head of an ancient celestial, nor was it the fact that there was a mining colony here based solely to harvest matter from the head. She wasn't squeamish about such things.

She was, however, not a fan of the Collector's museum. While she understood its purpose and the Collector's intentions for it, she still found its existence… unnerving, which was a rather irrational feeling given what she was, but that was why it was irrational. Perhaps the feeling could have been explained by the numerous oddities Taneleer Tivan had obsessively collected over the years, and who was to say that he hadn't come across something that could make even a cosmic entity a part of his collection. So, _no_ , Death did not enjoy going anywhere near the museum, let alone the Collector himself.

To be fair, he didn't like her much either, so Death supposed that was enough to keep them both from intruding on the other indefinitely. And technically since Taneleer Tivan and En Dwi Gast were a mere two of a species that had been around since the dawn of the universe (though still born after the cosmic entities and therefore bound to their rules), it did make sense that they all knew to avoid each other. Death would have preferred it if she only had to deal with the Collector once (at the end of his life), but this was a pain (as metaphorical as it was) worth enduring.

"My, my… Should I have been expecting you, dear?" the Collector drawled, turning away from one of his glass showcases. He gave her a studious look and raised a pointed eyebrow. "You look different."

In return, she sent a sharp smile his way. "Yet even so, I'm still fully capable of seeing to your end, immortal or not, Elder or not."

"You and your siblings never were quite fond of us. Never to the point of starting a war or rivalry, but none of us can ever seem to get past the tense air between our kinds," he mused.

"As troublesome as you Elders are, it is not up to the Entities to decide your fates," she replied. "Even if you're more… active than those Watchers, that doesn't mean that we – collectively – like you any more or less than others."

The Collector strode forward towards the table Death stood near and opened one of the drawers to scavenge for something inside. "Alas, you're not here to debate philosophy."

"No, I'm not," she agreed, keeping a careful eye on his movements.

"Then you must be here for the Infinity Stone currently in my possession. They've been rather popular recently," he said, finally pressing down on a button that revealed a container within the table. "The Reality Stone, given to me for… safekeeping by some Asgardians. Rather useless like this, but I don't have anything else for its Aether form."

"You will not be keeping it for much longer," she told him. One way or another – by force or by choice, he would be giving it up.

And it would seem he knew that too. "Ah, but you know me, my lady."

"You're right," Death replied, bowing her head in acknowledgement of the statement. "I do know you, and you never could pass up getting something from me in exchange for something like this... Very well, Taneleer. In exchange for the Reality Stone, I will tell you the location of the Soul Stone."

The Collector tsked, waving a finger back and forth at her. "I'm old, not senile, let alone stupid. What good would that do me without the ability to actually obtain the stone?"

Death fought the urge to let out a growl or roll her eyes. _Breathe._ (Not that she needed to.) _Deep breaths_. "Fine. Be that way."

She shrugged off her cloak and held it out – a new cloak coming into existence around her shoulders even as she handed the other off. "Not that you need it personally, but… for your collection, the Cloak of Death will be amongst your rarest items. Do _not_ lose it."

The Collector gingerly took the cloak from her as if he now possessed a great secret of the universe, which might as well have been true. "Never, dear, never," he purred, stroking his fingers across the fine material. "Now, which of your pawns will be receiving an Infinity Stone as payment?"

Death barely batted an eye at his behavior and instead set an hourglass down on the table, the sand grains slowly trickling one-by-one to the bottom. "You have until this runs out to get it to Earth and into the hands of either Tony Stark of Steve Rogers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so maybe I even had some vibes of the OT3 for Stuckony-- WinterIronShield? (or whatever its called) in that beginning scene along with Stony. My best friend pointed that out to me when she read it, but I don't feel like rewriting it to take out subtext when it's so nice already.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: not necessarily graphic descriptions of violence but a fight scene nonetheless, and a beheading that doesn't happen yet
> 
> POVs: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers

— _Wakanda, March 2018_ —

Tony looked at the holographic map one more time before making a gesture for it to enlarge so the others could see it. "Right, Thor and Company are supposed to get here sometime this week. You okay with them commandeering this field?"

With a small hand gesture of his own, T'Challa had the map zoom in on the sight they were planning on using as a landing area for the Asgardians and Guardians of the Galaxy, who had apparently decided to 'team up' with them upon getting filled in on everything and not just the quick run down Tony had given them a couple years ago. Tony had just about had an aneurysm when he learned that the group had not just the Power and Space Infinity Stones but also the Reality Stone, which the Guardians had been requested to take to Earth anyway by some guy called the Collector.

Which would bring them up to a total of five Infinity Stones when the party finally got to Earth.

It made Tony wonder where the Soul Stone was, but then he figured that since the Gamora chick was the only one to know where it was that they basically had all six of them.

Way to broadcast it to the entire universe that Earth was going to have a giant showdown with a Titan and his army of countless aliens, Tony had thought. Steve had kindly pointed out that they had the advantage. Tony pointed back that they were screwed if Thanos got his fat purple fingers on a single Infinity Stone. Steve had put his foot down and got that resolutely determined look on his face and said that it wasn't going to come to that.

Tony had to believe him. Because if he didn't, then what was the point of all this?

Right. Anyway.

T'Challa indicated a different field that they should use instead – because reasons and it was a bit closer to the city, which would make it easier to defend, and something about moving rhinos.

Tony had learned not to question the wildlife after his first encounter with a jaguar (not a _black_ panther but still one of its feline cousins) on his way to Shuri's place unescorted. It pounced on him, which had scared the absolute shit out of him since he had been outside of the suit, except then the big cat had proceeded to tickle his face with its whiskers and lick a long slobbery stripe from his chin up to his hairline. T'Challa had assured him that the experience was a rare one and that he really should be honored, given the Wakanda's cultural view on the panther species.

Tony didn't have a single nightmare about the little incident, which he wasn't lying about for once. So he took that as a sign of good faith or whatever and never mentioned it again. Well, Steve and Pepper and Everett had found out about it by that point, and there wasn't any getting rid of that light piece of so-called blackmail. Not that Tony didn't have juicy bits of _funny stories_ of his own to get back at them if they did happen to bring it up.

Sidetracking again. Where was he? Oh, yeah, the landing sight. They made final decisions, ready to be flexible about accommodations if needed. This was _war_ they were planning after all, no need to be stiff or uptight about it.

Giving the United Nations an official statement about the looming threat of Thanos had been a real joy (note the massive amounts of sarcasm Tony channeled whenever he said that). Even after the Avengers' cooperation with the ( _New_ ) Accords, they hadn't believed them. Then T'Challa spoke up about his favorable opinion of them, and _only then_ did they start to be a bit more reasonable than outright denying the possibility of another full-scale invasion.

It had probably helped that T'Challa had offered to host the main battle in his own country. No, it had _definitely_ pulled the majority votes to their favor. The vote being on how they were all going to organize a defense for the rest of the planet while shit went down in Wakanda. Yeah, fun times.

(Tony was pretty sure that the only redeeming quality of the initial meeting had been being in a UN conference without Thaddeus Ross around to screw with their plans. Oh, the look on his face when he'd been told he was fired… Tony had saved a recording to show Bruce when he got back from his field trip with Thor.)

But that was last year, and things were getting done, and Tony was significantly less worried about how unprotected they would be when Thanos came knocking on their door.

"We still need to decide on teams to protect the different Stones," Steve spoke up from the seat he'd taken in the shadowy corner of the room, which didn't make a whole lot of sense to Tony as to why he was in the corner because Steve was an important part of the strategies currently being made right now.

"Well, there's no way you're going to be able to separate Vision and Wanda, or Pietro from them for that matter," Tony mused.

The odd trio came to mind first, mainly because they had kind of already talked about this. Wanda and Vision were an item that no one (except the couple in question, of course) really knew when it had come about, and Pietro being Wanda's older-twin brother meant that there was no way he would be far from her side in a fight like the one coming up.

Neither Tony nor Steve wanted to put up much argument about the setup. After all, Vision and Wanda worked well together, and Pietro usually managed to keep the lovebirds focused. Still, Tony knew Steve was thinking about brining in Clint and having him keep an eye on the three (because, really, they were practically kids still), which probably meant Natasha was going to join them too, which would also mean that Bucky would be nearby even if he wasn't actively on the team in charge of the Mind Stone (or, more accurately, keeping Vision safe). And Steve was fine with that, so Tony was pretty okay with it.

"You and Strange were teamed up last time," Steve started, already moving on since they were on the same page.

"Peter and half of the Guardians were also there," Tony countered. They had talked about this too. "Do you know which I disapprove of more?"

"Tony, the kid can take me on in a fight, and he's going to be with you. He'll be fine," Steve assured him.

And, really, Tony couldn't properly argue with Steve about _that_ after the hundredth time they'd gone over it. "Don't tell the Spiderling you said that. You'll inflate his ego," he muttered, knowing his own ego was being stroked by the comment.

"I do believe Shuri is putting the finishing touches on a device that will contain the Reality Stone when it arrives," T'Challa said into the brief lull.

Shuri had been positively ecstatic when she found out she'd be in charge of one of the Stones, going on about representation not being left to her brother or something that Tony didn't really follow. In any case, she would be safely in one of her laboratories with her personal guard and walls upon walls of defenses made by both her and Tony with some input from Peter and her brother. And she was also in charge of inter-team communications.

"That leaves the Space Stone with the Asgardians and the Power Stone with the Guardians of the Galaxy," Steve concluded.

Tony held up a hand. "You're forgetting about the Soul Stone also technically being with the Guardians."

"We can't really pull anyone else away from the main fight, Tony," Steve pointed out. "Besides, it should be six of them protecting two Stones. The other teams are essentially three per Stone. Every other abled body willing to fight will be fighting Thanos's army."

Tony was about to reply when a subtle rumbling began to shake the glasses of water T'Challa had provided them with for the meeting. One of T'Challa's kimoyo beads alerted him to an incoming message, and when he answered, it was Shuri, who started listing off energy readings that Tony recognized as the Bifrost.

"And that would be Thor, " he grumbled, getting up and following Steve out if the building.

The blond god stood waiting for them out in the field nearby, grinning like the incredibly buff idiot he was (and Tony meant that in the nicest way). Bruce was with him, shuffling awkwardly as he took in their surroundings. Tony noted with some trepidation that Loki was also there next to Thor, looking a little worse for wear – just like he had when Tony saw him at Strange's place – but at the same time also... calmer now.

As they got closer, Tony had to pause for a moment because that was definitely a new haircut, and Tony was pretty sure Thor's eyes were different colors now. (Let it also be known that Loki must have finally taken a shower or bath or whatever Asgardians do because his hair looked _fluffy_ and _soft_ , and Tony was never admitting those thoughts to anyone. Except maybe Pepper. And Steve, who was seeing the same thing Tony was.)

"Ah, my friends!" Thor exclaimed, waving the hand that wasn't holding the wicked-looking axe. "As good as it is to see you again, you said in that static message that you would have a place to settle my people 'fore the battle."

"Uh, yeah, you too. It's— uh…" Tony had no idea where the field was from this point of view.

Thankfully, the Wakandan king had joined them outside and greeted Thor with a knowing smile. "King Thor, if you would follow me, I can show you to the field we have prepared for your arrival," T'Challa said cordially.

And, really, Tony had no idea how T'Challa got things done so fast. They had, like, just agreed on the spot an hour ago. Maybe it was easy to migrate rhinos?

Tony shook his head and moved over next to Bruce to nudge his friend in the side with an elbow. The other genius sheepishly looked at him and returned his hello. Yeah, Tony thought to himself, they had a lot to do, but they would be ready.

— _Earth, April 2018_ —

Steve didn't really know how to feel about seeing Thanos – gold armor glinting in the Wakandan sunlight, faux-sympathetic gaze scanning the battlefield littered with bodies both enemy and ally alike, the Infinity Gauntlet standing out like a sore thumb on his left hand. If Steve didn't think about it too hard, he would feel the near overwhelming urge to punch that smug bastard's smile off his face.

_"We are not allowed to lose. We just can't."_

Steve had given that speech not just as Captain America - co-leader of the Avengers and one of the two major faces of their cause – but also as Steve Rogers, a man who had lost. Tony had stood beside him, their combined influence reaching to everyone they were in front of. T'Challa and Thor had speeches of their own for their people, but everyone had heard the one Tony wrote and Steve spoke.

_"He's strong, even without the Infinity Stones. Don't underestimate him."_

They were beaten, tired, desperate.

Thanos must have been watching the entire time. There was no other way to explain how he knew the exact moment the last of his Black Order fell dead because of Scarlet Witch's fury. And then he was there – no grand entrance or spectacle to announce his arrival. Thanos didn't need one. Everyone knew the moment he set foot on Earth.

_"And for the love of everything, do not let him get a single Stone."_

The people holding Infinity Stones didn't need to be told twice to back off. They were all headed to the shelters set up for this exact moment. Strange was the only one still present since he could actually use the Infinity Stone he protected, not that he planned to use it (or so he adamantly protested).

Steve helped Tony and Strange draw Thanos away from the others still fighting the swarms of aliens that Thanos had dropped on them. They figured out early on that they couldn't destroy the Stones like they had originally wanted to, so there was really just one plan: kill Thanos. And since Thor was their only real hope at that, the secondary-but-no-less-adequate plan was to get the Infinity Gauntlet off of Thanos's hand.

Tony had said that they had almost managed to take it off in the other universe, when Thanos had three Stones in his possession. Steve believed him, so that's what they were going to do until Thor could make it to them. Thor, who had been caught up fighting the largest member of the Black Order with the Hulk. Steve didn't know where they went, but it wasn't anywhere near the trap Tony had designed for Thanos.

For the non-scientifically inclined, it was based on a black hole's gravity well, which still didn't mean much to Steve, so in even simpler terms, it was supposed to be able to keep Thanos from moving by ramping up the gravity in a specific area. But they couldn't make it too strong or they'd mess up Earth's gravity. Steve did understand that, and to him, that also meant the trap wouldn't hold for long. It was just a stall tactic.

_"Tony, when it's done… I just want you to know—"_

Steve wouldn't remember much else from the battle. Most of it had blurred together, but he did remember the final moments with a clarity that would never fade.

He'd been knocked back with a force that he sent him flying, only stopping when his back hit some boulder in a rock outcropping hidden in the forest. Even with his vision swimming in and out of focus, he could still see Tony facing Thanos on his own, like he himself had done not a minute ago. He couldn't tell what Strange had been doing, but it had looked like some kind of spell that needed a longer prep-time than the ones he'd been using earlier.

When Steve heard Tony let out a shout and fall to one knee with Thanos still looming over him, he forced himself to his feet. Steve refused to let Tony die, not when he could do something about it.

_"No, Tony, listen— I want you to know, I'm thinkin' about retiring."_

It had hurt, but pain was only an afterthought. Steve had put himself in front of Tony as soon as his friend fell, a piece of his own blade stuck in his side. There was an energized static making the air glow with an orange that Steve could only attribute to Strange, and at Thanos's glance in the sorcerer's direction, Steve knew he was right.

Through sheer force of will ( _because Tony was his friend, and Tony was strong, and Steve would be strong for Tony when Tony was down and couldn't get back up—_ that _was why he was here_ ), Steve held his ground.

_"I think… maybe we should both consider going into full retirement, you know?"_

A series of things happened that Steve couldn't explain. All he knew was that it ended with Thor suddenly appearing, crashing down from the sky and illuminating the darkened forest with the brilliance of his lightning. Thor had Stormbreaker's sharp edge against Thanos's neck, and Strange's hands were shaking from keeping whatever spell he had cast active even while he was steadily bleeding from the side of his head, and Tony was down – _not dying, he couldn't be dying_ – behind him, and Steve could only feel relief as he saw a cloaked figure out of the corner of his eye.

Time seemed to slow.

_"Scared, Thanos? Don't worry. I've only come for your head."_


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: injuries, a skimmed over death
> 
> POV: Death

_"Do you want to know where it all began to collapse around you? It wasn't because you were wrong. It's because you made it personal."_

There was a secret – one that only two in the whole universe knew. It started with a thought, something simple and hardly worth noting beyond that this was where that secret began. It was a thought that lead to another thought, and that thought lead to many others. That, of course, was how a plan began after all.

Though, the plan was less of a plan and more of a possibility, a chance, a difference. It was a test of sacrifice, or rather the question of that choice. To let the person one loved most die for the sake of the entire universe. Was there any real answer to such a dilemma? The logical answer should be in favor of the universe, but the emotional aspect would make one choose the few over the many.

And the secret? Well, that would depend on whom one asked.

To have asked the Stonekeeper, the wraith that guarded the Soul Stone, he would say that nothing had changed. And this was true, in a way. His task remained the same, and the Soul Stone still required a sacrifice in order to be obtained.

But to ask Death… That was another story.

_It_ drifted across an open plain, ignoring the battle cries and pain that tickled _its_ senses. _It_ followed the taste of desperation into a section of forest near the outskirts of the evacuated city. Even though _its_ shadow fell like a dark blanket, none saw _its_ cloaked figure slipping past them.

The dead were being taken care of by the reapers of their different religions. Death was there for one and one alone. She would finally be done with that gigantic pain in her side, as _loving_ as the Mad Titan had been, it was time for him to go.

She heard a cackling roar of laughter and looked over to the main battlefield to see Chaos watching with malformed eyes, a hovering Order cringing silently next to him. They could oversee the rest of the battle. She had a life to reap.

The shock in his eyes was almost too sweet for her to not comment on. Trailing her cold fingers along his cheek in the semblance of a loving caress, she whispered in his ear, and in the split second left of his life, shock became a misguided sense of betrayal. Then it was over.

Death turned to her champions. "I suppose congratulations are in order."

They were both dying, she noted. Which wasn't fair, really, but life wasn't fair. Still… if their injuries turned out to be significantly less life-threatening than they first appeared, it wasn't anything she had done. (It was the least she could do to express her gratitude for their marvelous work.)

When they didn't reply, she made to leave, floating back towards the battlefield to watch the rest with her kin. She had the strange feeling that she was forgetting something. Surely it wasn't _that_ important… She was just being dramatic, but the effect was worth the effort.

"So— Is that it? We're done." Stark's voice made her pause. "We won, right?"

Death looked over her shoulder before turning to fully face them once more. "You successfully averted the annihilation of half the universe, yes. What you do from here on out is not up to me," she answered.

_Oh_ , that's what she'd almost 'forgotten': their memories of the Original Path. They wouldn't need them anymore. They had their own memories from This Path that would contradict the memories she'd given them at the beginning of this whole fiasco.

Reaching out a pale hand, she carefully extracted the now-false memories. They would remember their desperation and need to stop Thanos. They would remember _why_ but no longer _what_. More importantly, no one of This Path would. Not anymore. Their connection to the Original Path had died with Thanos.

The memories slowly coalesced in her upturned hand. She let the man (who would have everything he needed) and the soldier (who would have more time than he wanted) watch as the memories hardened into a glowing orange gem that she didn't dare actually touch with her bare hand. It wasn't their universe's Soul Stone. Well, it was; just not the one they were thinking of, but they didn't need to know that.

"Isn't that–?" Rogers began to ask before cutting himself off at her grin.

Stark spoke up in the space of silence that trailed behind. "Strange said that there were over fourteen million possibilities and that we lost in all but one. Is that what happened here?" he asked.

Soul Stone still hovering above her hand, Death contemplated the answer, given that she didn't want to give the man one that he wouldn't be able to understand. There was only one real answer, but it wasn't as if she had to tell him the truth. At least not all of it.

"I don't think you understand what my siblings and I did, Anthony," she began. "This Universe you're living in right now… It's not the one you saw, for obvious reasons. It's an entirely new Path— possibility number fourteen million, six hundred thousand and _six_."

It was significantly more complicated than that, and she still had to wrap up a few loose endings – among the most important being the separation of the Infinity Stones once more. She would like to say that she didn't have the time to humor the man, but she would be lying, and what need had she to lie?

She let out a soft sigh and smiled at them. "But no matter. What's done is done, and a whole new world awaits you both. Oh, I'll see you again, but until then you should live your lives to the fullest. I can't wait to hear the stories you'll have."

And then she vanished from their sight, staying just long enough after time began to roll forward once more to watch Rogers drop down next to Stark and breathe. She heard them both chuckle and then break into a laugh together, and that was all she needed to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed To Infinity But Not Beyond.


End file.
